By Maxx Danielson (Guest Barker)Happy Leap Day everyone! Once every four years Dad lets me post a guest blog, and since I’m only three years old, this is a real treat. Normally, I’m jumping for joy, but lately, Dad’s been so busy editing his next book that I barely get any attention. Oh, sure, he’ll play for a few minutes when I press my stuffed squirrel or knotted rope into his side, but then he goes right back into his office and bangs away on the keyboard. At that point I have no choice but to lie down next to him and supervise. My job is never done.
Two days ago Dad went back to work after being home for an extended time. Now it’s just Mom and me, and as much as I love her, I do miss my dad. I don’t really understand why he leaves us for days at a time, but it must have something to do with his black suitcase. Whenever it comes out, Dad disappears. I’m having serious thoughts of ripping up that stupid bag so he won’t leave us again.
It’s been a real interesting winter for me. Denver has had more snow this February than anyone can remember, and that has been a problem for me. You see, I love tromping in the snow, but my coat is so fine and curly that it turns me into a walking snowball. And since Mom and Dad don’t like wet floors, they scoop me up at the door and spend the next five minutes toweling me dry. It’s annoying, but I tolerate it because I love them.
It’s also squirrel season, and I really hate squirrels. As the head of security for the Danielson household, my job is to keep these furry rodents out of the backyard – and I take my job very seriously. They see me coming and they spring up a tree. Sometimes they taunt me when they get to the top and all I can do is bark and wait. If I could fly like my dad, there’d be in trouble.
Dad’s next story is about ghosts, and that concerns me. He keeps telling everyone it’s based on a real haunting in a Fort Worth theater, but I’m not so sure. Personally, I think he’s flipped his lid, but what do I know? All I want is for him to come home.
Dad, if you’re out there, you’re welcome for me taking up the slack while you’re out flying around the country. Four years seems like a long time to wait before I can do this again, but I suppose that’s how it works. For those of you who are Irish, it’s Leap Year, so get engaged. If you’re not, get with someone you love and celebrate the extra day any way you can. As for me, I’ll be at the front door waiting for Dad to come home.
Two days ago Dad went back to work after being home for an extended time. Now it’s just Mom and me, and as much as I love her, I do miss my dad. I don’t really understand why he leaves us for days at a time, but it must have something to do with his black suitcase. Whenever it comes out, Dad disappears. I’m having serious thoughts of ripping up that stupid bag so he won’t leave us again.
It’s been a real interesting winter for me. Denver has had more snow this February than anyone can remember, and that has been a problem for me. You see, I love tromping in the snow, but my coat is so fine and curly that it turns me into a walking snowball. And since Mom and Dad don’t like wet floors, they scoop me up at the door and spend the next five minutes toweling me dry. It’s annoying, but I tolerate it because I love them.
It’s also squirrel season, and I really hate squirrels. As the head of security for the Danielson household, my job is to keep these furry rodents out of the backyard – and I take my job very seriously. They see me coming and they spring up a tree. Sometimes they taunt me when they get to the top and all I can do is bark and wait. If I could fly like my dad, there’d be in trouble.
Dad’s next story is about ghosts, and that concerns me. He keeps telling everyone it’s based on a real haunting in a Fort Worth theater, but I’m not so sure. Personally, I think he’s flipped his lid, but what do I know? All I want is for him to come home.
Dad, if you’re out there, you’re welcome for me taking up the slack while you’re out flying around the country. Four years seems like a long time to wait before I can do this again, but I suppose that’s how it works. For those of you who are Irish, it’s Leap Year, so get engaged. If you’re not, get with someone you love and celebrate the extra day any way you can. As for me, I’ll be at the front door waiting for Dad to come home.
10 comments:
Maxx, that was a very well-written post. Maybe you should write the books and let your dad chase the squirrels.
Maxx, that was a very well-written post. Maybe you should write the books and let your dad chase the squirrels.
Thank you, Mr. Earl. I tried to leave the squirrel chasing to Dad, but he just played catch and release. Let me get 'em and they'll NEVER come back. Dad knows his limitations -- best that he sticks to flying and writing. Arf!
Hi, Maxx, you adorable ball of fluff. Mariah, my Australian-Husky mix, sends her best wishes and wants to know why I haven't let her write an article once in a while. I might let her do that on her birthday.
Oh, Mariah! I'd tumble for you. :)
If you can start the day without a shot of caffeine, be cheerful, ignore your aches and pains, resist complaining and boring people with your troubles, eat the same food every day and be grateful for it, understand when your loved ones are too busy to give you any time, take criticism and blame without resentment, conquer tension without psychiatric help, relax without consuming alcohol or illegal drugs,
and sleep without the aid of prescription drugs, then you are probably the family dog:) (I wish I could take credit, but I lifted this one off the web. Love, Maxx)
Hello, Max.
Luca (His Lordship of Eternal Cuteness, Light of a Thousand Suns), Willow (Empress of the Moon and Stars, She Who Would Topple the Throne) and Trixie (Teddybear Princess of All Things Cuddlesome) send their regards and express their willingness to chase squirrels. Except Trixie, who expresses her willingness to watch from the sidelines and bark. Thanks for the guest post!
To all the dogs I've known before, who've barked at me in and out my door, I just want to say, it's been another great day, to all the dogs I've known before . . .
Love, Maxx
Maxx, Sorry I'm late with my comment, but I've been doing tax stuff. That's those piles of paper that make Dad's face turn red and cause him to yell and pound the table. Hope you'll forgive him when he does that, he's only human, you know.
Dear jackie,
Dad makes paper piles, I make other piles:) And my piles must be extra special because Dad gift wraps them whenever we take walks.
News flash -- I just found out Dad's hired someone to put on a new roof. I'm going to need another refuge while that's going on. Maybe Grandma will welcome me for a couple of days. I love my house and my bed, but I hate noise!
Who said it's a dog's life? I'm on duty 24/7!
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