All that ranting about how terrible it is to not have a home yesterday left me wanting. I didn't know what I was wanting at first, but when I found a rat in my yard I remebered. I wanted freash meat. I wanted to hunt and kill my own food.
For a dog, hunting and killing your own food is a wonderful thing. I have to be careful. Killing rats and gophers makes me a good dog. I can even get away with an occasional mocking bird because everyone knows how mean they are.
There are some animals I am not allowed to kill. Namely cats. I chase them every chance I get and even have a few convinced I'll kill em! I'm pretty sure the ones I've cornered and then let go are onto me, but I still scare them. But killing a cat would get me into terrible trouble. They would call me a stupid bad dog. Not just stupid, not just baD, but a STUPID BAD DOG. I don't think I could handle the shame.
For now though, I am a hero, because all my people hate rats and one less rat in the world make them happy. I'm happy because I ate half of the rat before Kim found it and threw it in the trash.
I'm a smart good girl dog.
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