Precious Peeps it’s Pits Perfect.
I had a ferocious feed of fermenting fodder earlier in the week that cleaned me out and clean did my stomach in to boot.
That, coupled with the Canadian wild fire fallout that hit Ohio over the past few days, and I’m having to rest up to get back to peak performance.
Dad is being very considerate and kind to me but Granny is cross as forty cats because she says she’s had it with me chewing on crap.
Yesterday she found a pile of grass in my crate that was proof that what goes down must also come up.
I slunk off and feigned forgetfulness. Poor Dad had to clean out my lodging when he got back from work.
I may move to another palace to get away from the gnarled Granny.
The King seems to be an understanding fellow.
Just a shame he’s into working dogs.
Maybe I’ll stick with my master and mentor.
Blessing#1729-Grasslands
Booming Banter 