In case you didn’t know, all canines keep diaries. That’s what princesses locked in towers, or grandmoos and grand-paws get up to, right? You may also be wondering why on earth I would be keeping a journal. You’re sitting there, wrinkling up your forehead as we speak, saying “A dog’s diary?” to yourself and picturing my furry little paws typing away at a computer or scribbling in a notebook. In this book, you’ll find the story of my life so far with my brand-new family, and it’s a HUMDINGER! Yep… shiny-nosed… licky-tongued… floppy- eared… bow-wow-woof-woof… and you’re holding my daily doggy diary in your five fingery digits.Ĭonsider yourself extremely lucky, my person-pal. If you hadn’t guessed already, I’m a dog. My name is Junior-hello! Or should I say, HERROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOW? But for you, my non-furry reader, I’ll make an exception. We usually prefer to take a polite sniff of each other’s butts and-HEY PRESTO!-we’ve got all the information we need. Us pooches don’t normally bother with things like that. I should probably start this story the way you humans like to, with an introduction. That’s how it was when I met mine, and OH BOY do I have a great pet. The happiest moment of a mutt’s life, when you see your pet human for the first time, and you know instantly that you’re going to be BEST FRIENDS forever.
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