My best friend is Jorga, a tall black beauty with dark sparkling eyes and just a bit of tawny surrounding her snout and jowls. We agree on everything. At first glance, she appears to be very serious, but one look at her flopped over ears and you will see she is just a silly willy forever trying to herd squirrels. Me, I’m small, mostly white with a few brown spots and long brown ears. My hair is longer than Jorga’s. I’m the serious one, all business when it comes to chasing birds. I haven’t yet caught one, but boy when I do watch out. I mostly practice with balls, but I’m very good at spotting and retrieving sticks big as logs.
Jorga’s Dad and my Mom are best friends too. Sometimes they bring us to the park and walk together holding hands while Jorga and I play, steal each other’s toys and chase our tails. Once in a while, they will ask us to speak to them and when we say nice things we get delicious treats.
We weren’t so rewarded last week when the siren music was playing outside. Jorga and I sang along in perfect harmony, however, in our excitement we got carried away, started roughhousing and knocked over a vase. Voices were raised and fingers were shaken. Both of us tucked our tails, ran and hid under the bed. We were in even more trouble when my Mom stepped on a piece of the broken vase leaving the scent of blood all over the entranceway. Jorga’s Dad wrapped up my Mom’s Owie and carried her to the couch for a rest then wiped away the scent of blood.
We stayed hidden under the bed, snuggled together having a nice sleep until it was time for dinner. I am happy Jorga is my best friend; she makes a nice warm place for me to rest my head and doesn’t eat all the food in my dish.
Cheryle April 29, 2018
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