I had a terrible itch today. It was one of those itches that is hard to reach, and once you start scratching it, you just can't stop. Unfortunately for me it was also one of those itches that makes one of your legs spaz out and twitch uncontrollably. Of course this provided more entertainment for the man, who began pointing at me and yelling, "Look at Zoey! What a weirdo!"
That was totally uncalled for. Both Pookie and Tucker the sharpherd decided to take a gander, and I could not just stop because I was in mid-scratch. How embarrassing.
Moving on, the man gave me a peanut butter pretzel today. My first thought was that it was poisoned, but its haunting aroma forced me to eat it. Actually, the pretzel was delicious and I am still alive; but something very creepy happened - truly an evil plot just to irritate me once more. It seems the peanut butter stuck to the roof of my mouth, and it was impossible to shed its grasp. Instinctively running to the water bowl, I was hoping to wash down the tacky substance and find relief. To my dismay, the only water left in the bowl had been sullied with the sharpherd's disgusting and overwhelming saliva. Gross! My breathing became more difficult, and I thought I was about to pass out. Zoey's end was near.
My only chance of survival was to seek the aid of the tree, who had shared drinks with me before but also tried to kill me through an air strike of Christmas ornaments. Throwing caution to the wind, I drank from the tree's basin and washed down the suffocating yet tasty peanut butter with a few cool gulps. All this was done without interference from the tree. Maybe I can once again recruit the tree to my cause; I may have been too hasty in dismissing it as an ally.
Peanut butter has become yet another weapon in the man's arsenal. I find it irresistable, but its effects on me could be devastating. I guess that is why the dogs in the neighborhood call peanut butter "canine crack." I certainly hope I don't become an addict.
Oooh! My favorite Christmas song just came on: "Dominic the Donkey."
Stay hungry (but don't OD on PB)!
Z.
Tucker and I discuss my emergency.
"You tried to call 9-1-1 to get me a mint? That's really low, chihuahua. Really low."
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EXCLUSIVE ZOEY PICS!
hiding from the man
I'm all ears.
you lookin' at me, punk?
check out my hoodie.
an old football injury
stay alert. there's no sleep with the man around
Preparing to Strike
After I escaped the New Jersey concentration camp
SCENE OF THE CRIME: On the lookout for hip outfits at The Country Junction
THE EVIDENCE!!!
The feline's Michael Phelps moment
STONEFACED!
My look of disbelief after witnessing the feline's secret addiction
Check out my tat.
Z-Funk...feel the groove
The New Lion: It could have been such a beautiful friendship!
want some of this?
Got protection?
I get more sleep now that I have my own lion.
The Great Bone Wars: Zoey 4 Tucker 0
Yes, I killed that leopard, too.
hide the bones! there is treachery afoot!
The sharpherd singing the blues
PRISONER OF THE MAN!
I was the man's prisoner for a week.
My skinnier days
Tucker, my dufus sharpherd brother
Tucker in his babushka
Tucker again. What a dope.
the feline...a culinary genius
A SNEAK PEEK
stills from one of Z. Funk and the C-Sharpherds videos, "U And Me Can Pee on That Tree"
2 comments:
sadie and belle are obsessed with PB too!
Who is their dealer?
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