What a disappointment. I thought we were going for a car ride. I can’t believe I misread Joan. I can’t believe it. So, that means we don’t necessarily go out in the car every time Joan goes into the garage. Oh, rats!
What could I do? I looked as sad as possible. I even tried my sure-fire sigh, lowering my head so she could see the tragedy playing itself out in my heart. Nothing worked.
Why can’t I be more like Shane? He didn’t care at all. He just wagged his tail and forgot the whole thing. He’s so cool about life’s letdowns. But, me, I really feel them in the most dramatic way.
We did go for a walk, but we had to come back through the shortcut because there was a plane zipping around behind the clouds, and the noise scared me.
Some people stopped their car to ask what kind of dog I was. “That dog a malamute?” they asked. Joan said she didn’t think so. She said she thought I was a Newfy-Pyranees. Secretly, I think she just likes saying the word.
Pretty soon, though, that plane made me forget my disappointment, and all I wanted to do was get back to the safety of the home front. And that’s exactly what we did. Shane and I sat in the back yard and enjoyed the view. I feel much better now.
Best wishes, Juno
No comments:
Post a Comment