I was taught as a young pup to sit and not bark too loudly. In fact, not barking at all was praise worthy of a few tummy rubs, head scratches, and a game of indoor fetch. Wagging my tail dirtied the floor so eventually I stopped that too.

Biscuits were dry and tasteless in m opinion, they were unnecessary in my diet but I learned to love them. I had to earn them. They made me feel worthy I suppose, and I never settled for half a biscuit, nor a quarter of one, oh no! I wanted the whole consumption and so did the rest of us ambitious ones. In fact, we often fought over the biscuits; a contest it became. However as I grew older my mind looked to other things besides biscuits... other intelligent dogs like myself; some were pretty and some very smart ones. I still couldn't find the perfect matchmaker in the world. Perhaps a fun one...?

Oh no, no, no, no! What a terrible thought! The fun one's never receive or earn biscuits at all. However, they were always fun to play tug-of-war with, and always shared their chew toys...what was truly wrong about them? I guess I never belonged in their packs, I had my own to follow anyways.

Life was full of mysteries and discoveries. Bones to dig up, fire hydrants to proclaim, and fleas that needed to be confronted with.

Yet in the end it all changed and my neck felt the collar click and the leash dragged me outside too quick, into the real world. Forever.