Purr-go

I don't know what's up with the floor in this house. I can't get any traction on it. When Dad came home, I went to get my bone as usual, but when my legs moved, I didn't. It was annoying.

And Dad's laughing didn't help. Then again, maybe it did. I didn't get punished for enjoying his work gloves from Ruffwanda.

If he's gonna leave the entire contents of our house strewn about, even the most well-behaved pup, which I am, is going to be tempted, which I was.

I'm pretty sure Dad thought I ate an entire glove, because after he finished laughing he wandered all over the house with a "where is the other one" look on his face. I had it the whole time cause I couldn't get to my bone.

I heard Dad call the floor Purr-go, which would explain the cat smell in here and, now that I think about it, why I can't go.

B.