Just when I thought things were getting back to normal after the holiday, they did. Normal means someone knocks on the door and Joan says, "Come on in; I'll make some cappuccino." Shane and I have it all planned out; it's a sort of system reserved for visitors. If we're annoying enough when company comes, Joan gives us a bribe, like a biscuit or a carrot, to keep us quiet. It always works. The more trouble we cause, the more treats we get.
But, today, we had a visitor—one I've never seen before—and the system broke down. I barked and Shane walked in circles and tried to knock him down, but nothing happened. The visitor didn't trip and we didn't get any treats. That was three hours ago, and he's still here, I guess, waiting for his cappuccino. He doesn't play or talk or give reassurance or say bad things, but he sure is a colorful character. Yikes! Maybe he's the new pet! How's he going to fit in the car with us? And what about the sleeping arrangements? I'm not sharing. It's not that I want to be mean or anything, but I'm a little too big to be sharing my bed with anyone. I'd better go sit in front of Joan and look sad. No, I'd better go stretch out on my bed before he gets any bright ideas.
Come on, Shane. Hurry! Sorry. Gotta go.
Best wishes, Juno
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