The lady just called me GI Ginger. Despite her tender tone, she did not bestow this moniker upon me due my outstanding patrolling skills. Thus begins my sad story.
Last night, I had to go out several times and I didn’t always make it in time. I'm not gonna lie. It was rough.
But I swear. It was not my fault! I am a dog. I will eat whatever you feed me. Or whatever I find on the floor, or on the ground, or under a rock. The blame belongs to the lady.
Nevertheless, it was humiliating. I felt like some pathetic poopy puppy. And though it was her fault, I was embarrassed that the lady had to clean up after me. π³ But she told me that she cares only about me and not some inconsequential little mess.
I must be cuter than I thought.
Stomach issues aside, I am ok and have just finished a nice walk in the yard. It’s still pretty hot, but there is a cool breeze under the shade of the patio where I will settle in for a bit. I am determined to earn a GI status that I can take pride in. Therefore, I have taken up my post and will hence forth be on bear patrol!
As you can see, I remain a giant among dogs!
Love,
Ginger πΎ❤️