I Need A Walk!

Don't get me wrong, I have a good life. I'm almost always inside, the food is great and plentiful and I've got a couple of good friends. I sleep on leather chairs and once in a while they let me up on the bed.

I have them pretty well trained to pet me on demand even if that little rat comes up and jumps and yips at me, damn pups. But man I'm getting fat and restless. Mind you so is the big fella who tries to run the joint. He's gotta be tipping the scales at around 1000 pounds. Ok I don't do math, hey I'm a dog!

I just wanna get out some and chase some darn rabbits and deer. They got pissed off at me last time we went for a long walk cuz I just ran off and ignored them. I mean I only get out the odd time so I give her, I run my feet right off, literally and that pisses them off too. I figure screw it, I don't care if my feet bleed, I got to run! It's not my fault, it get it from my mother or something but I'm an anxious dog. I get all worked up when I know I'm gonna ride in the truck and my guts get upset and I just can't help it but I bark my ass off. I'm so excited I can't contain myself, my bark is like a shrill yip and my guts churn and I shit myself.

Oh you want to see pissed off, just shit in buddies truck on his leather seats. The guy's whole face turns read, veins pop out of his neck and forehead and he just tosses my ass out of the truck. Ah mission accomplished, I'm out and I start running. Of course this really torques the guy, he's angry about the crap, of course my guts feel muuuch better, and now I'm off running.

I don't come right back to him cuz he might beat me senseless.........allright he doesn't do that but he scares me when he's just ranting on and on about his damn truck, I had to shit! And besides, he'll haul my ass into the back of the truck and take me home and I want to run, so I run.

After about 40 minutes to an hour, or an hour and a bit I come back. By then my feet are sore and I'm thirsty as hell so I let him take me home. He's usually cooled off by then about the whole crapping thing. I've only done it about five or six or seven times, you'd think he'd get used to it by now. At least I don't eat seat belts anymore, that sent him right over the edge man, I thought he was going to have an anurism for sure. I mean the guy's a goof but hell he feeds me and pets me on command. It's either him or the streets again, I can't go back out there alone, I just can't, I nearly starved to death.