The worst day of my life...

Ok. I'm being dramatic. But I'm only 11 months old. And I must say, I wasn't expecting today to turn out like it did. I got out of the garage this morning and did my potty stuff out in the deep grass. Then I got to eat my breakfast and then the big lady let me in the house while the little people here were eating in a rush to get out for that big yellow thing that roars by and takes them away. I took a little nap and then I heard a noise outside. I got up and out the big lady and I went. There was a big, white van and a really nice tall guy got out and he brought a dog with him. I heard him call her Tess. She was light on her feet and looked like a bird dog. I know I'm supposed to be a bit like that, but no one here shoots birds, so I'm just here to keep the big lady walking, get the big guy out at night, and to keep the little people from leaving socks around or I'll carry them off and lay on them.

I had fun with Tess and enjoyed some good ear scratches from the big guy. He did some work in the yard with a big, loud machine. Then after about an hour and a half he calls the big lady out of the house. They walk around looking at pink flags flapping in the breeze. They looked so pretty. I did not realize for the life of me the horror that was about to unfold. Pretty soon, the big guy that seemed so nice put a collar on me. Then he starts to walk to the flags. Beeps! Lots of beeps. Then bzzzz. Just a tickle really. But it felt weird. Not right. Like I was in trouble. Then we walked the yard over and over again. This big guy with my big lady following behind. They were talking about some guy named Bama that was changing the course of history. They named other names and said some things I don't dare repeat on the internet. But over and over again he'd kinda led me to the flags and beep... bzzz. YIKES. I don't like this. No, not one little bit. I'm sensing a big change in the course of history and it has nothing to do with the good ol' USA. It has to do with me, a sweet, brown-eyed golden retriever that loves nothing more than her freedom and people and if they are all there at the same time... well that's bliss! I'm getting a feeling that this is nothing more than prison. I'm stuck. I realize I have nearly 2 acres of 'freedom', but to me, this freedom ain't free. YUCK. I feel sad. Tormented. Depressed. And so I wallow along in my pity. It really is working on that big lady though. My oh my is she giving me lots of mushies tonight. She's rubbing my belly, flopping my ears, rubbing her cheek against mine. Pssst. Don't tell her, but I'm really not feeling that bad about this new flag get-up. I am just going to milk this for all it is worth for the time being anyway.

So... no more stories about sheriffs. No more stories of me racing out to scare the willies out of joggers on the bike path. No more stories about me going into houses I don't belong in. Just plan on a boring post once in awhile and nothing more. My life will be stuck. Here. Rats.