Doodle’s Log: March 5, 2015.
It snowed last night. I can’t be sure how much, as I lack the thumbs required to utilize a ruler effectively, but the drifts come up to the beagle’s chin. I think the humans asked for it to punish me for bleeding all over their carpet the other night.
I have tried to explain to the beagle that snow is a terrible condition but she’ll have none of it. This morning when we went out for our morning constitutional, she made a mockery of herself by diving headfirst into the deepest snow. I tried to call her back to Mom and my side, but she pretended not to hear. Instead, she began blazing trails through the snow, though it is up to her chin and very cold, smiling like an idiot all the while. Mom laughed, which baffled me. I stood beside her, stoic, waiting for the charade to end so that we could return inside. She kept chanting at me to “be a good girl” and “go potty” even though we both know that it is madness to try to evacuate my bladder in snow that deep. I would surely die. Evidently the beagle has gone mad. I will not be so easily taken. I will wait until Mom or Dad shovels an area of the yard. They will have to do this eventually. I fear I may not be able to last until then, however, and that I may be forced to evacuate my bowels in Mom’s closet. Oh, how far I’ve fallen.
I heard Mom tell Dad that my webbed feet are defective, a fact which I know to be false. My webbed toes make me an excellent swimmer, or they would if I were ever desperate enough to need to swim. According to her, however, the webs are also supposed to keep the snow from collecting between my toes, which must be a lie. That is one of the snow’s evil tricks — getting frozen to your paw hair in between your toes and giving you frostbite. To “help me,” she says, Mom purchased paw covers, which only I am forced to wear. The paw covers are most humiliating. They have taken countless videos of my attempts to walk in them. They laugh. What sort of hell have I come to?
In addition, the humans will not leave. Normally, they all evacuate the house in the morning and return later in the day. This gives me time to tend to my affairs. I have business to take care of, namely spying on the cat and ascertaining how far progressed are her plans for total household domination. I fear she is close. In addition, I must frighten the birds who grow bolder every day and lay down a fine layer of my hair on all of the furniture to help keep the humans warmer. They are basically naked but cover themselves with blanket-like things that make them look ridiculous. Eventually, I hope they will appreciate my sacrifices.
I am liking the ear rubs and extra treats I have been given this morning, but I also caution myself to look out for the attached strings to such benevolence. It’s only a matter of time before I am forced outside again. I fear I may go mad.