By Trixie Koontz, Dog
1) Sun.
2) Swim.
3) Sausage.
4) Smell the roses.
5) Sneeze.
6) Snooze.
7) Sniff, snort.
8) Quilting classes.
9) Bite Donald Trump's ankles—if he has bathed.
10) Continue with my nuclear fusion experiments.
11) Lay claim to eight square miles around house with pee markers.
12) Save fur from morning combings until have huge mass. Then pretend to cough it up, give neighbor's cat hair-ball inferiority complex.
13) Read Old Yeller, have good cry.
14) Call tobacco shop, ask if they have Prince Albert in a can, then tell them to let him go.
15) Learn to turn off alarm system. Without waking Mom or Dad, slip out of house before dawn. Drive to doughnut shop for first batch of the day.
16) Learn to drive.
17) Sausage.
18) Go to Disneyland for lunch with Walt. (Keep secret that he is not dead. Tell everyone am having lunch with Mickey and Donald.)
19) Establish contact with home planet, make report on progress of conquest of Earth.
20) Chase cat not because want to but because is expected of dog.
21) Luxuriate on lawn.
22) Luxuriate on Mom and Dad's bed.
23) Luxuriate pretty much everywhere.
24) Sausage.
25) Play with stupid ball that Dad thinks so much fun. Humor him. Practice looking excited. "
6/26/2007
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