Yep. Breakfast. But not Breakfast at Tiffany’s… Breakfast at Kettleman’s!
On Saturday mornings, mama and I walk up to Kettleman’s Bagels. Our order is always the same. Two pumpernickel bagels, toasted, with butter. One for me and one for mama. A glass of water – ok, that’s just for me. Dad always called me the “cafe dog” because mama always took me to cafes and gave me water by the glass. Because you know, I’m so sophisticated.
Ah this is one of those weekends when there are lots of chores to be done. Most of which apparently involve procuring large amounts of food for dogs and cats. Of which I wholeheartedly approve. Yet if I must sit in the car while she shops then I require some stretching of the Dale muscles. And yes, Laurelhurst park will do nicely.
Mama made the mistake of allowing her shoe to become untied. Whenever she does this I take the opportunity to rush her, knock her down, hold her down by the shoulders, and administer a first-class face licking. Here I am, about to strike:
Without dad, we can’t take any photos of my amazing abilities. But take it from me, it was pretty darned hilarious when she hit the ground and tried to resist me. Resistance is Futile!!!
What could possibly distract me? Mama had a cunning plan. Spotting pine cones in between rolling around on the ground trying to avoid sharp objects and getting too dirty, she grabbed one and threw it. Despite my best effort to resist, my instinct took over and I chased it, allowing her to get up. Shoe still untied. But hey, we’re talking about pine cones here…
Oh yeah… check out the tongue…
Say what mama? You want to walk not? Oh, I don’t think so…
No, I will not walk and you will not take these pine cones from me. Unless you want to try, in which case that could be hilarious and I will quickly put them all into my mouth and run in the other direction.
Are you feeling lucky?