Our dog, Sam, got a phone call the other day from his Uncle Ken. (Ken is my brother-in-law, who met Sam when he was here for a visit last month.) Ken had seen my previous post and pictures of one of Sam’s destructive days, and so he called to give Sam a pep talk about being better behaved.
What Ken said. “Sam, I’m very disappointed in you. I see the destruction you made. That’s very bad, Sam. You better straighten out or you’ll have to come live with me. Sam, you be good.”
What Sam heard. “Blah, blah, blah, Sam. Blah, blah, blah, Sam. Blah-de-blah-de-da, Sam. Sam, blah, blah.”
Sam gets Ken's message off the answering machine. "Woof, woof, Ken. Woof, woof, woof."
He could pass as the RCA dog!
True that!
Poor Poor Sam. Mommy and Daddy were very upset with you. Poor, Poor Sam, however, he probably thinks – Blah, blah, blah, Sam. Blah, blah, blah, Sam. Blah-de-blah-de-da, Sam. Sam, blah, blah. Don’t do that again. They give him a treat afterwards.
POOR, POOR, POOR, SAM. “WE LOVE YOU . . . PRETTY BOY!
Sheesh! Everyone feels sorry for ‘poor, Sam,’ but no one seems to feel sorry for me! And, yes, he did, indeed, get a treat later that night, but only after we gave him the cold shoulder for about 30 minutes!
Poor Sam
Poor Sam? Heck, Sam is so popular, he is the only one to get a phone call that whole day! Sheesh!
Oh well then!