The other day, my mom came home with this. Frickydoodles! I almost eliminated indoors! Almost, I said. Mom put him in the hallway, just outside of the elevating room, and Dad nearly had a heart attack when the elevating room door opened up. Since he didn’t have a heart attack, he started laughing and brought it inside for me to meet. Woaf! After I got done with all the barky barky that I thought needed to be doned, I did a bit of sniffling around. It turns out that this fellow was never really alive! If I jump up on his face he turns his head though, just like what happens in the dog run with a pony-size dog friend. The poor guy lost his tail, and one of his ears is also goned. I thought he had had a sturgery when I saw a big scar on his tummy, but Dad opened it up with his bare hands, and it turned out that he needs new batters inside, whatever those are. Dad says that with new batters inside him, my little pony might pretend to be alive, like a real animal. I can hardly wait to see if Dad’s right, but then he added that he wasn’t inclinated to just rush out and buy a set of decise batters during this reception. So I’ll just have to wait.
Anywhich, here’s a moviepicture of me and pony playing:
(If you see an empty¬† space here, you have to reload the page. Don’t ask me why… I’m just a dog.)