meeks' diary

my friend helen's dog meeks has a blog, and a few weeks ago i was a guest poster. here is what he spoke through me:

Dear Diary:

My heart has been shaken to its core. Mommy left last week. She didn't tell me where she was going, or why she was leaving, or even if she'd be back. At first I thought we were going to the park, but when we pulled into Camp Woof, i knew one of two option were afoot: abandonment or paw painting, and there was no paint in sight.

The last time I had an extended stay at Camp Woof, I had trouble finding my niche. The collies just glared at me judgmentally, the poodles were too busy sniffing their butts to be bothered, and I kept waking up with a shifty Labrador glaring at my through the bars. he whispered something about making me his bitch, but i'm a boy! that's not possible!

After the first few hours of counting the tiles on the ceiling (it got repetitive, as I can only count to three), I tried to pass the time in more productive ways. my attempts at knitting were pathetic, because you need thumbs for that, and i couldn't work on my upcoming line of baby rattles, because that requires thumbs too. evolution is not a king mistress, especially to an up-and-coming rattle designer with paws instead of hands.

I was left with thoughts of suicide and the searing knowledge that mommy was a bitch. i wish i had tear ducts.

Edit: Mommy just came to pick me up! ohmygodilovehersomuchwhywasiupsetagain?