It’s getting all dark and thundery outside and mom decides to take Rosie and me outside for a “quick potty”. Of course, the first thing we do when we go out is paws, stick our snouts in the wind and get the latest news on who’s been where and what they left behind, if anything. This is essential, and yet mommy insists on interrupting our a-roam-a-therapy session with her prods for us to get down to business.

Well, first of all, this is our business. We are monitoring the entire cul-de-sac for friend and foe; all mere steps from our front door. In fact, I used my puppy superpowers just the other day when I eyed some scary looking box on our neighbor’s driveway. Without hesitation, I rushed at the offender (keeping a prudent distance, of course), the dog fur on my neck spiked as my super cape unfurled and I barked with intent at that imposter!

Mom kept saying it’s just a cooler, but what she doesn’t know is how dangerous this ‘cooler’ was before I rendered it harmless with my GPS (Guinness Puppy Subwoofer).

So, Rosie and I oblige and do our bit for grass and weed. Now, this is what’s interesting. Mom would not appreciate us gracing her floors with our poos. So, why does she make this big deal about picking up our poos and bringing them INTO the house? Answer that one.

I can’t help but stare with my head tilted and my mouth open in a giant grin as she eagerly scoops up our recently deposited treasures and then rushes in the house with her bagged prize. And mommy thinks our passion for sniffing dead lizards is illogical. At least we don’t bring them in the house (mainly because when we do, she takes them away and we never see them again!).

I just finished rolling in some smelly stuff on the sidewalk and I notice that Rosie is now barking at her pet squirrel that’s just scrambled up the tree. Let’s face it; dogs do stuff that makes sense.