Bad Words

So Saturday I am watching Dad cut the grass in the front yard. Dad’s cleaning up the place and we’re excited because Mom is coming home. I have to watch through the window ‘cause there is no fence in the front yard and I am not allowed where there is no fence to keep me safe.

While I am watching Dad, I see a kitty I know come around from the side of the house and head over across the road. I always notice kitties. Dad noticed the kitty too and was watching to make sure he crossed the road safely.

All of the sudden, I hear Dad starting to say something and notice a car coming down the road. Dad is yelling to the driver to watch out for the kitty—and he’s pointing at the kitty so the driver can see that it is in the middle of the road.

The driver did not pay attention to my Dad or the road cause he was headed straight for the kitty. We’re all getting scared and holding our breath cause he is not slowing down or anything. Sure enough, the driver hits the kitty and we can’t tell what happened to the kitty ‘cause it went running.

I was so sad for the kitty ‘cause he got hurt, and, oh boy, was my Dad mad. He was yelling and saying “rated R” words about that driver. My Dad don’t usually cuss, except when the Browns are playing, but he was saying bad words really loud and didn’t care if anyone heard him.

Dad said he knows that sometimes animals get hit by cars on accident, but he was mad ‘cause there was no excuse to hit this nice kitty. There was nothing going on. No cars in the streets, no kids playing, it wasn’t raining, it wasn’t dark . . . it was just the road and a kitty in the middle of the road trying to walk to the other side. That man wasn’t paying attention to where he was going.

Dad says people need to stop being distracted when driving, especially in neighborhoods. People need to slow down and look in both directions—you never know when a kitty or a greyhound or a kid on a bike will come out into the road.

I feel very sorry for that kitty. He didn’t do nothing to that man to deserve to get run over. We haven’t seen that kitty so we don’t know if he is alive or not. The neighbor went looking for it, but couldn’t find it. Me and Dad were very upset the rest of the day.

Seeing a kitty get hit by a distracted driver is 0 roos.

Update: I saw my Dad talking with the neighbor today and he came in and told me good news. The kitty is okay! The neighbor said that the kitty is doing okay and staying away from the road. Me and Dad haven't seen the kitty so we were worried and thought the worst. The neighbor said they saw the driver when it happened and he had his head down like he was looking at his phone. I hope he learned a lesson too! The kitty gets 4 roos for being okay!

Week at Bernie's

Tomorrow I have to say goodbye to my Mom. Not forever, just for a week. She has been working really hard and did all her homework so she is allowed to go on vacation for a week. She is going to Panama City to get a tan and talk to the dolphins. Mom loves dolphins and has pictures of them all over the house. She loves them almost as much as she loves me!

Dad is staying home to take care of me and Petey. We’ll probably do some “man” stuff that we are not allowed to do when mom is home. We’ll drink beer and burp. After we burp, we'll laugh like it’s really funny. After Petey burps he has that goofy “Weekend at Bernie’s” look on his face. We’ll probably turn the music up real loud and do hip-hop dances. We’re going to make messes and not clean them up and watch lots of ball games in the living room (roo, roo Tribe!).

We’ll probably get lots of human treats and I bet me and Dad will play lots of fetch outside. We’ll probably stay up past our bedtime, watch a rated “R” movie and then have pizza for breakfast! We just have to remember to clean up before Mom gets home and then act like we were good boys the whole time she was gone.

Okay . . . we probably won’t do all those things, I think I have been watching too much reality television.

I hope Mom has a nice vacation and I’ll miss her. I bet she’ll be telling Sky stories on the long ride to Florida.

Mom going on vacation is 4.0 roos.

Mac the Rooer!

My Mom recently went over my Aunt Julie’s house and when she came back she told me something very upsetting. She said Aunt Julie’s dog, a Lab mix named Mac, is not just a better rooer than me— he’s a way better rooer than me!

Say what? I couldn’t believe my silly ears.

Please tell me that’s not true! That doesn’t even make sense, I am a greyhound and we are supposed to be the best rooers. I am so embarrassed, I want to hide in my room and not do any roos. Why did Mom even tell me that—she should have kept that information to herself and let me think I am the best.

I am glad Mac has something to roo about, but how can he be better than me? He must practice a lot; probably when nobody is home and people think he is sleeping. Maybe he got professional coaching—probably from a greyhound. Maybe he takes a special pill that makes him roo. Or maybe he was raised by a pack of greyhounds and that’s how he learned. There has to be an explanation for this travesty.

I haven’t met Mac, but when I do, I am going to get to the bottom of this—and find out how he learned to roo better than me.

Being out-rooed by a Lab mix is not very good. I give it 1.5 roos.