I do not bark just to hear myself bark…
at least most of the time I do not. I bark because that is the way dogs talk and I am a dog. Yesterday Mom and Turbo and I rode in our car. When we stopped, I knew right where we were so I marched my big girl self right through the door and wagged my stubby tail at my friend, Georgia, who cuts my hair. I stood on her table and kept my mouth shut while she did stuff to my coat as I had nothing to say. That, however, changed when she put me in a cage and took Turbo to another room for his turn to have a haircut. I looked around and saw I was all alone. I was not pleased so I barked, “Hey, Georgia. Georgia! Come back. I am not happy in here.” I barked more. Then I barked even more. She came and got me. “About time,” I thought. She put me in her lap where I sat very still and watched her make Turbo’s hair short. On our way home I barked real loud at Mom to stop for a burger when we passed the good smelling place. Dang! If Mom would not miss me so much, I would go live with Georgia. I bet she would not keep driving if I told her to stop and get me good stuff to eat.