The little devil's...

...sticks.

I'm home from being away at doggydo.org. (My mommy had her second cataract surgery.) Everyone is convinced that I had a good time there, and the daily email updates and pictures show what a good dog I was. Nobody asked me.

Well, I guess I didn't exactly suffer, I played with some other marooned dogs and was in the warm house at night. But just before my release I was given a bath, got my nails clipped and, geez, my eyebrows trimmed! THAT DID IT. Today, I ripped that "good dog image" to shreds and tried on my devil's horns. Emptied the waste paper basket, ripped tissues apart, ripped some magazines to shreds, took a bit out of the dining room carpet underlay, threw my toys around, demolished another squeaker in a toy, took that sock ball apart, asserted my male terrier identity!!

It was s a busy day! I'll sleep well tonight!

Another thing. My treasure box of sticks. I find those and bring them home. My mommy helped me a little bit with the very big stick, it was very hard to carry that one by myself, but the others I did all on my own. I can't take them into the house, although I try every time. So we put them into the wood box and sometimes, when we go for another walk, I take one of those sticks and carry it with me.

Fritzi signing off.