Hi, I’m a dog.  My name is Ladybug.  I like chicken and sniffing butts.

I just feel like I should put that right out there so we get off on the right paw.  You guys should know…..my mom…

She’s a real pain in the, wait, what was that?  Did you hear that?

Never mind, that was just Amazon….again….and nothing for me…..whatever…..

Daddy came home really early this morning from a trip to Caleebornya?  I think?  I don’t remember.  I heard Mommy tell the small hoooman that last night and she said he was gonna fly.  I’ve never seen Daddy fly, except for that one time Mommy freaked about the big red bag that he uses when he goes away sitting in the kitchen for three days, well that’s what she said anyway.  “Three flocking days”  Does that sound right?  He really ran fast that day.  So he was in Caleebornya and he said it was warm and brown and I was like, “Daddy you know what else is warm and brown?  Let’s go for a walk!  Now, right now, now.  I don’t care about a red eye!  Your eyes are fine!  The bright glowy thing is up Dad!  Let’s go!  What is 5AM?  I don’t understand.”

So Daddy tried to climb into bed with Mommy?  And she smiled.  She hugged him tight and said she missed him and I’m so mad.  I got right in between them and huffed just to let them know just how ridiculous that hugging and kissing stuff is.  Unless they’re hugging me.  I love that. Until I don’t but when I do, I really do but I don’t but I do…

So Daddy didn’t even take me for a walk.  He went to sleep.  You believe that?  He went to sleep.  Mommy scooted me out the door and went downstairs and said that I have to go with her even though I butted the door with my nose like a seal in the PBS show we watched last weekend.  Mommy said it was a duckuhmenturry.  Mommy doesn’t like TV.  She watches boring history stuff and shows where the women wear poofy, heavy dresses and drink tea and fan themselves.  Daddy says Mommy was born on the wrong comtifent.  I don’t know what that means but I know he’s right because he’s Daddy.  She’s okay, but I like him more.  She likes my puppy dance though and I don’t know how she does it, but when she gets home from work or from running or from the groffery store with lots of bags of food that she won’t let me eat.  I want to try hummus too.  Anyway…she starts singing this song, maybe you know it, Lady Marmalade?  I like marmalade, I think…but I just start dancing and I can’t stop.  She’s singing and I’m dancing and she laughs and starts dancing with me.  Maybe that’s how she gets me to dance.  Anyway, what was I talking about?  Oh, yeah, Mommy is okay but I really love Daddy.  He plays hide and seek with me.  It’s my favorite game, except when he hides in the shower and I can’t find him.

So it was 7:06 and she finally fed me.  My breakfast is a 7AM.  Obviously she doesn’t care. And she was making coffee in that gurgly thing on the counter.  The same counter she won’t let me jump on when I’m trying to reach the cookies.  And how can I possibly walk by that gurgly, burpy thing?  So I would eat a bite and then cower and you know what?  She didn’t even feel bad.  She told me to get over it.  Over what?  I don’t get her.

So I finished my subpar (Mommy uses that word when talking about Daddy’s dusting skills and she always looks like she smelled something bad so it must mean something icky) breakfast (she didn’t even put Cheerios in there or cheese or chicken – honestly – I don’t know why I ever kiss her or do that stupid puppy dance.)

Anyway, I have to nap now.  Don’t tell Mommy that I figured out her password and bought a new princess bed with a canopy on Chewy.com.  Daddy finally got up and took me for a walk and I pooped and sniffed my friend Sadie’s butt to make sure she’s feeling okay and chased my fluff duck that squeaks and I barked at that Amazon guy and scared him and I’m just exhausted now.


I write about life as I know it.

5 Comment on “Mommy’s at Work and I Hacked Her Blog

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