Hey there. Nice to meet you. I’m Lola. I am the “dog-taughter” of these people. I was their first baby and I was the top dog until they had that little boy. I guess he’s supposed to be my little brother or something. Hmph. I never asked for one of those. Just give me a treat and I’m good – a little brother, not so much. He was alright when he was tiny and not mobile. I got used to him crying in the middle of the night for no reason. Then mommy would hook him up with the sweet nectar. Funny, she didn’t do that for me when I was a baby. Yep, she’s shady.
Now that the kid is on the move, I have to be on the move too. He thinks chasing me with his hands in the air ready to pounce is fun. I don’t agree. He kinda scares me. I would bite him but, I know my days would be numbered. So, I suffer. I always have one eye open whenever he’s around. Sometimes, we get along real good when he lets me sneak in a lick. Every now and then he actually throws the ball to play with me or feed me from the dinner table. That’s when I think, “this kid might be alright.” That all changes the moment he decides to try and “pet” me. I’m not sure he’s got the hang of it yet.
I guess things aren’t all that bad. They still manage to keep me pretty and take me to the dog park every now and then.
On the bright side, the kid is gone for most of the day. As a matter of fact, they all are. I like to think that I own this house and they just come here to sleep after a nice meal. Other than that, this palace is all mine. It’s a pretty charmed life for a dog. They even gave me a doggy door so I can go hang out on my bed in the backyard when I want to sun myself. The other dogs in the neighborhood think I’m spoiled. I don’t care, I think they’re just jealous.
By the way, don’t tell the lady I’ve been blogging. They might expect me to start doing tricks to impress their friends. I can’t be having that. A diva never works for her treats.