I wrote it. I wrote the poem to Taylor. [Read the previous post for the full story] I have left it on her desk, so that she can read it when she gets back from school and know just how much her composition has affected me. I’m not sure she’ll really understand what I scrawled [you cannot IMAGINE how hard it is to write with these furry paws!].
I had originally planned on emailing it to her, but I just couldn’t get her ID. This is what happens when you have a brain the size of a peanut. You just can’t think up smart ideas like that Einstein fellow. I bet HE’S glad he wasn’t born a humble DOG.
Anyway, it was a long and dangerous journal, from the comfort of my doggie-bed to Taylor’s chamber. It is STRICTLY PRIVATE, but I am, of course, an exception to this rule [HOW can someone POSSIBLY ignore my auburn eyes?? They’re just TOO CUTE!!].
Although I had permission to enter the room, I still couldn’t be seen entering with the my poem dangling from my jaw, for obvious reasons. [ What if someone figured it was I who wrote it?? I could be in serious trouble. I mean, if someone DID, Gawd-forbid, discover that I can WRITE, I would become so famous that Michael Jackson will seem like a fan-less amateur when compared to me. It WOULD be nice to have people swoon at your sight, but, on the other hand, I think I can manage without all those drugs and stuff, thank you very much!]
Fortunately, the trip was event less except for the short meet-n-greet I had with that little mouse who lives in the hall.
I just hope she reads it and doesn’t just pop it in the bin because of the almost ineligible cursive that I use for all the formal documents I dash off [OK, so maybe I’ve never really had to “dash of a formal document” before, but just you wait! Once I publish my soon-to-be bestselling book, I will have BILLIONS OF FANS!!! MWAHAHA!!!!!]
Speaking off fans, boy is it HOT in here!! The electricity has been powered off for a few minutes because of something or the other and I am actually SWEATING. [Dog’s don’t sweat. It’s a fact]
Hey, maybe now’s the appropriate time to jump into the neighbor’s pool. And if the cops ever question me, I can just say that I was driven by a heat-deprived brain and a weird craving for chlorine. They’ll never know…