I don't know why more dogs don't blog. We've got the world figured out far more than people do, so we clearly have way more to say.
Look at me, for instance — I don't have a job or any money, but I have the run of a nice two-storey house, plus a cottage near the ocean. I can't talk, but I still manage to get my person to do whatever I want her to. I whine at the door, she takes me for a walk. I lie down in the kitchen and make dopey sad eyes at her, she gives me a treat. I come home wet from walking in the rain and she rubs me down with a towel and wipes my paws. I poop and she picks it up and puts it in a bag, for god's sake.
Sure, I let her think she's in charge once in a while, as long as I'm in the mood. But we all know I'm just humoring her. Dominant species, my furry ass.
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