Friday, September 4, 2009

What sort of torture is this? By Pepper


I know it seems as if all I ever do is complain, but when life is handing you lemons without sugar and cubes, all you can do is pucker up and make bad faces.


I was (by rare chance) napping when my well intentioned mother was surfing the Internet the day she decided to buy this monstrous excuse for canine transportation. If I was awake, I would have done anything I could to dissuade her from spending her money on this thing.


I am offended.


First off, when she and my dad wanted wheels, they go out and buy a new Land Rover. When they want wheels to drag me around to look at rocks and trees, they buy this? Certainly, my comfort was not considered. Where is the air conditioning? Where is the vanity mirror? This looks like the Pontiac Aztec of dog strollers.

www.edmunds.com/pontiac/aztek/2005/picturearchive.html


Secondly, my mom threw me and my brother into this thing and pushed us around in the livvvvinggggg roooommmm! Like some 5 year old girl putting dolls into a carraige for a stroll around the block. What's next? Dressing us up and having a tea party? My dad is just as sad...he was laughing like he was watching a Chris Rock DVD.


Finally, my brother seemed jazzed about riding around in this thing. Dude, you have been officially adopted. They cannot send you back. You don't have to pretend to like them anymore. You with your happy face and wagging tail while dad snaps pictures makes me wish you get fleas.


My mom and dad are busy packing stuff for this trip. I am trying to figure out how I can persuade my Aunt Nola to get parental custody of me for the next month. Before we have even gotten started, this thing has cost me a trip to the vet, shots, flea rub and now this indignity.

5 days to go.


Pep

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