Fridays are Woof Days

Sailor here.

Mom says I’ve made great strides in the Friday morning department. I used to bark when the garbage men came to steal our stuff. I used to bark a lot. It’s my job to warn Mom of what she calls impending larceny. But Mom explained that these men were actually helping us be virtuous, so I changed my tune.

Mom says that every week we put our leftovers into the smell-cans for the garbage men to pick up. They do pick them up, I’ve seen them. Mom said that they take our stuff (and some of it’s GOOD stuff!) to Phil Land. He lives over by the Bay and needs it more than we do. She says that generosity is one of the most important virtues and we can be virtuous every Friday morning.

I am glad Phil Land needs our stuff and that we can be virtuous, but it’s hard not barking when I hear Phil’s friends come for his stuff. This morning, I was asleep by the window just inside Mom’s den door and the garbage men caused me to Woof!

Mom told me to settle. I settled, but my chest still felt like woofing.

“What’ll I do next week, Mom?” I asked. “It’s hard not to woof.”

But Mom was on top of that one.

“Next week, Sailor,” she said, “I’ll close the bedroom door.”