Showing posts with label commandeered blog post. Show all posts
Showing posts with label commandeered blog post. Show all posts

Monday, January 16, 2012

A Plea From the Dog

Me and Mom
My name is Tucker. I am a 3--almost 4--year old Chocolate Labrador Retriever. I live with my mom, Liberty, and TMOTH. I have commandeered Mom's computer to beg for your help (and I am really good at begging.)

You have to stop Mom's obsession with this thing called "writing". It is really getting in the way of my quality dog time. When I first came to Mom's house, everything was confusing, and I did not know how completely obsessed she is with this activity.

First, it was writing a book. That was fine. She would sometimes stay up late while writing this book. This was nice because she would, if she remembered, be up to let me out to go chase opossums and other night-time animals I don't get to see in the daytime. I sure do love to chase them squirrels and rabbits... just wish I could catch one...

But, Mom has now decided this thing called a book needs to go into a contest. If that weren't enough, she is now writing these things called "reviews" and "short stories". I'm not really sure what these are, just that they are starting to encroach on my well-deserved walks. After all, I am the dog. I need these sorts of things. And, if Mom were to take me for my walks, she might not be so concerned about the size of jeans she is (or isn't) fitting into these days.

If that isn't enough for you to help me, maybe this will be. I sometimes hear Mom talking to herself. I think she's talking to me--after all, she using the word "bones" a lot--but when I come to see where the bones are, she barely notices I am there! I know I heard her right. Then she's started talking a lot about getting an "agent" and making lots of "queries". I'm not sure what these are, either, but they sound like a big problem if I'm going to get my dinner on time one of these days. Too many times, Mom can't remember whether she fed me or not. (That's why the kids give me scraps--to make sure I keep up my strength. Someone has to get the word out about Mom!)

Won't you help me? You may know how to talk to Mom about her addiction. I've tried, but apparently, Mom cannot understand me. I will keep you posted on my progress.

--Tucker the Labrador

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