Thursday, February 07, 2013
My name is Harley.
I am a formidable six pound dog but people call me a monkey for some strange reason.
This is my little corner of the wheel estate where I eat, nap, guard, play and live when I am not taking over the rest of the place, like my pet parent's favorite feather pillow or afghan or bed or all of the above.
My pet parent plays hide and seek with the toys, but always hides them in the same basket behind the same chair. Maybe she isn't good at this game.
I like to scatter my toys all over the motorhome and outside as well. Sometimes she fetches them. Good girl!
My pet parent opens my curtains every morning for me and fills up my dishes. She brushes my fur and makes me wear pawfume some days.
I like to romp around in sweaters when it's chilly and a warm jacket when it's cold. It's fun to roll in the dirt outside so my sweater and jacket smells better.
Once in a while my pet parent makes me take a bath, but I prefer to stand up the whole time on my back legs, because it's loads of fun to get soap all over the place.
Some puppy dogs tell me they are crated.
Maybe they are fragile and need a crate.
I don't know. I have never had a crate.
Is that bigger than my motorhome?
I like to play kissy face with humans, take long walks, ride a bicycle, feel the wind in my fur and go to the canine park. I am an expert at removing stuffed toy stuffing. I can play you a tune with my squawk toys. When my toy gets out of tune, I rip out the squeaky. I'm athletic too and can play tennis, golf, basketball, soccer, baseball, football, frisbee and keep away.
Here I am posing for the camera, with the wind in my fur. We were going so fast that my left floppy ear stood up on its own. I keep my mouth shut when I hang my head out the window ever since I swallowed a big old bug.