I say, I’m smart. Check out these picture’s. And you tell me who looks happiest. Me, right? Dad loves looking at stuff on that strange black thing. And it seems when he is looking at it, he never has enough hands to stroke me. Now in my humble opinion that’s just not right.
So I do what any intelligent being would do. I annoy him. I lick his arm until he has to touch me to make me stop. Oh he tries using his words. The one’s I hate, like, Annie, stop. Annie I said stop. Annie come on that’s enough. And then he plays right into my sweet little paws and starts to stroke me. First behind my ears, then on my head-- then from the top of my head all the way down to my tail. And I love it.
So I’ll say it again, what some call needy, I call smart.
Hoping your back gets rubbed until you fall asleep, and that a smile remains on your face, all this long day.
Love, a very contented,
Annie
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