Hunter is one third lab.
This is why he doesn't pay any attention to any rules.
He is one third Chow.
This explains why at times he is a real dick.
He is one third German Shepard.
This would be why he takes policing very seriously.
And Hunter is on duty.
Unless he is asleep.
I'm not sure what academy he graduated from.
He has yet to produce any papers.
But he is the best, gosh darn idle patroller there is.
No one on Hunter's beat is idle.
That's why I am writing this.
Right this moment.
You see, I stayed home from work today.
Because I am feeling a little under the weather.
But, if I were to wander over to the couch behind me and lay under that fuzzy, inviting blanket and rest my head on one of those sweet sofa pillows, he wouldn't care for it.
He would tap his way over there, sit directly in front of me and stare at me through those mirrored sunglasses of his.
And then he would eventually tire of that.
So, he would bark.
And not just one little worn out woof.
He will rant and rave until I get up off that couch and get busy.
That's why I picked this activity.
It's relatively easy and I do get to sit down.
We could go for a walk.
But we already did.
Or I could make some breakfast.
He doesn't mind house cleaning.
I loaded up the dishwasher.
Then I put the finished puzzle back in the box.
And made the bed.
Now, I am sitting here around the corner, out of his sight, writing about nothing.
Because I have to.
He is napping.
But if I stop tapping on these keys, his eyes will pop open, and he will get right back to his beat.
What he has never been able to explain to me is, why does he bark at everything outside the window if it moves?
But yet, inside he barks at everything, if it does not.
What are they teaching our men in blue?
Maybe it's time to reevaluate.
Because by God!
Innocent people should be able to lie around with the remote in hand when they don't feel good.
They shouldn't have to write about nothing.
"What's that Louisa?"
My sister doesn't think I'm sick.
"Yes. I am."