Previously, we learned that Pugtacular had been cancelled. And now, back to the story.
Trinket's Journal
Jan 29, 2006
The humans had a big argument at dinner. Mom thought that Bucky should opt out of next year's Pugtacular. Given his recent success, I have to admit that she has a point. However, Dad seemed to think otherwise, saying that she should keep hope. It turned into a big yelling match, with Mom yelling at Dad, and Dad defending his point, though not very well, I might add. Meanwhile me and Bucky were hiding under the table. "What do you think?" I barked.
"About what?"
"Do you want to go to Pugtacular next year?"
"About that," he barked,"I don't know. I honestly don't know."
That was good enough of an answer for me. Good enough.
Jan 30, 2006
My birthday! Henry cuddled me and told me I was the greatest little doggy in the world, which I suppose lifts your morale, even if you hear it twenty times daily. There was cake, of course there was cake, it wouldn't be a birthday without cake. Dad held me over the cheesecake while I tried to bite it, and Mom took a picture. The picture was supposed to be funny, but I didn't find it amusing at all, no sir.
That was out of my mind soon, however, as Henry produced candles, stabbing them deep into the cheesecake. Then, Mom lit them and they all started singing while Bucky romped around. "Bucky," I barked from my high angle,"sing!"
"Why should I?" he barked back."You never sing on my birthday!"
"Okay! I'll always sing on your birthday." Now sing," I commanded.
"Oh fine," he barked, and started singing.
Of course, I probably wouldn't sing on his birthday, so this whole fiasco would start over next year. But enough of that. It was eating time.
Dad divvied up the cheesecake, half in each of our bowls. I never understood this. I was obviously the better dog. And my portion was gone within seconds.
That was the day. I could not hope for a better birthday. But I knew: come Pugtacular, our luck would run dry.
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