Sunday, July 31, 2011

I, Hunter. Again

Jib here.

Mom and I went to the park. Mom and I are practicing for next weekend. I am in two dog shows. Mom says we have lots of work to do.

It was a new park. It has new squirrels. New, cheeky squirrels. Gray, chittering squirrels.

I saw a squirrel. I left Mom. I left her fast. Real fast.

I chased the squirrel. The squirrel tried to climb. It didn't climb fast enough.

I CAUGHT the squirrel! Between my teeth!

The squirrel squeaked. It bit at me. I dropped it so it wouldn't bite my nose. I caught it again. It tried to bite my nose. I dropped it again.

I caught it. It bit my nose. I dropped it and tried to hold it with my paw. It ran away.

So I caught the squirrel. With my teeth. Again. It squeaked. Again. It tried to bite my nose. Again.

Mom ran up to me. Mom caught me. She caught me by the back legs. She held on.

I dropped the squirrel. The squirrel ran away.

Mom didn't let me run after it. She held me. She held me tight.

I was SO excited! It squeaks!

Mom didn't let me go. I am glad she didn't bite my nose. I didn't bite hers, either.

Mom says that when we are training at the park, cookies trump Mom. And squirrels trump cookies. She was not amused.

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