I’d be lying if I said I’m not a little bit worried. Beagle Man leaves tonight for his annual Alps ski trip with Matt and Greg and their friends. I saw him packing his bags. That means Mom’s in charge of me. Which is
fine. . . in certain ways. I mean, I’ll get fed. And she’ll throw me some rope toys while she watches her TV shows. But playing outside? I mean really playing, the way I like? I don’t think so. And what about taking me to the dog park? Or Burying Hill Beach? Or Lake Mohegan? Does she even know where Lake Mohegan is? I hear we might be going up to Vermont this weekend, with Robby and his friends. At least that would be cool. But when those guys go out at night, you think they’re gonna want to take me along? Uh-uh. One way or another, I’ll probably just have to suck it up and keep myself occupied. Tell you one thing: When Beagle Man gets home from Austria next Tuesday night, he’d better bring me back something pret-ty nice — and not just some T-shirt.
Beagle Man and Ricky always have a lot to say, so I’ll just pipe up in The Duck Dog Speaks whenever I can.
Wow, You wanted snow and you all sure got a huge helping! And you even brought a lot of it home!!!! Thanks a lot.
See ya Wednesday.