
I love blueberries. They come from a big black box next to my food dish. When the door is opened a light shines. I have been stealthful enough to get my head just inside the door. It is cold in there.Blueberries roll but they don't squeak. They taste better than string, plastic and rubber. Right now everything looks chewy to me. Like my man human likes to ask, "How do you know you don't like it unless you try it first?"
I shall go sniff around the black box in case i missed any.
Arf and sniff,
Daisy

I love my man human, he takes good care of me. I love to be near him. During the day I often sleep as I miss him terribly. When he arrives home I find renewed strength and energy from which I romp and bark. Sometimes my humans find my howls and barks endearing and other times I am told to be quiet. I don't think they quite understand how the phone, television ,movies, and serious conversation inspire me verbally.