The Daily Baxter

Hey kid!

You drove your bike into a corner. This makes me question your smarts.

Your defense on the other hand, your defense is exemplary. You dumped your snacks in the bike basket, then blocked off all but one side, which you are facing and clearly prepared to defend.

Sooo regarding that. I am not the enemy. Quit defending your snacks from me.

Sharing is caring.

The thing is, you’re always pointing out flaws.

If you didn’t tell everyone that I recently had my anal glands expressed, or that I’ve been rolling in dirt and sand, that I sometimes snack on my own poop, or that I like to eat my own eye boogers they’d just see me as handsome.

Possibly regal even.

You know what’s gross?  Your constant judgement.

I am beautiful.

No matter what you say.

Words can’t bring me down.

Mostly because I don’t know how to read, but that’s besides the point.

You probably think I’m sniffing at something tasty cooking up on that grill.

You are wrong.

The grill is off.

No one is outside, nor have they been all day.

Except me.

And I’m barking.

That little tip of my nose is the finishing position of my bark, but make no mistake about it, I’m serious about barking at this thing.

Oh come on.

Don’t look at me like I’m unreasonable and annoying.

You know what’s really annoying?

A fancy new drip tray, filled with fatty deliciousness that I don’t know how to remove.

Your new grill is stupid.

Did anyone tell the small fry that Sundog is a day of rest?

No balls. No game play.

Definitely no calculators.

Zzzzzzz.

I don’t know what everyone is so excited about. Sunshine and wind? 

In case you haven’t noticed, flying a kite isn’t exactly my thing.

I’ll take fluffy, frosty snowflakes any day.

Or every day, for that matter.

Oh hey everyone. 

Just had a deep conditioning session and a blow out.  I’m sure you could tell, right?

Amanda says I look ridiculous and that I really need a haircut but at least I feel clean and smell good.

The only thing I feel is glad to be through with the torture of grooming and appalled at how she tries to impose her standards for beauty on me.

We’ll see how she likes it when I start calling her out on her roots and passing judgement on her styling choices.

Are You There Spring?  It’s me, Baxter.

On Friday I thought maybe you were finally here and then on Saturday I was sure of it.  So sure I overindulged.

Did I embrace you too tightly and scare you off?  Was it too much pressure to know you were responsible for so many smiling faces?

Well, we didn’t mean it.

We’ll be bored of you soon enough.  Just come back and give us one more chance.

I know you’re playing hard to get and I’m supposed to ignore you and wait for you to come running back. 

I just thought you were above this kind of game.

I mean really…did you have to pull the snow card?

Forever waiting,

Baxter