"A Day in the Life of Lashon the Bichon"

       My mom is a writer. She thinks she's famous. I don't know if that's true or not. I only know life for a little dog with lots of energy is pretty boring when your mom sits in front of the computer most of the day. And before I continue, I said I'm little because others say I am. Actually, I'm as big as any dog when it comes to protecting my mom, especially from the bag boys at the grocery store, where they try to reach in and steal her car. And I make sure the UPS man understands he'd better not hurt my mom either. The only people in uniforms I trust are the ones who show up with a biscuit for me. The ladies at the bank are okay, too.

      I guess I got off the subject, didn't I? I was talking about life with a writer. Well, it can mean getting up pretty darned early sometimes. Once an idea starts whirling inside my mom's head, she begins keeping some pretty strange sleeping hours. And since I feel it's my duty always to be at her side, that means strange sleeping hours for me, too. I really don't mind too much. I can get up and be bouncing and ready to go a lot quicker than Mom. I wait for her, following her from the bedroom to the bathroom, back to the bedroom, back to the bathroom, ho-hum. She sure takes a long time getting ready sometimes, but I usually get a smooch or a belly rub sometime during the process.

       I like to tease my mom in the mornings by jumping on the bed right when she decides to make it. I dare her to make me get down. You see, I love to play, so I take every opportunity I can find to get a game going. It doesn't always work, though. She usually orders me off the bed, but as soon as she's done making it, I jump right back up and wait for her to finish getting ready to leave for the office. I usually can tell when that is, because she always says good-bye to her birds before leaving.

       Those birds really bug me. I have no idea why she likes them. She has six parakeets and two cockateels, all in one big cage. Mom stops to talk to them every morning. She makes kissing noises at them. Ugh! I'd rather chase and eat them, but Mom would be really mad at me if I did that, so I put up with them. Besides, I'm the number one pet in the house, and I get to sleep with my mom. The birds don't have that privilege.

       Well, we're off. Mom opens the garage door, I run out and pee in my favorite spot, and then I jump into the back seat of Mom's Jeep Cherokee. Her office is only five minutes away at the place where Dad owns a business. My brothers, Brock and Brian, both work there, too. I like it there, because everyone who comes in says hi to me and pets me. I usually flip over on my back so they will rub my belly. That's my favorite thing, you know, getting a belly rub.

       I'm treated like royalty at Mom's office. I have my own special rug on top of her desk, and I lie there all day while she works and writes. Well, I don't really lie there ALL day. I have to chase the UPS man whenever he comes in, or the FedEx lady. I also do my duty in barking and growling at strangers. After all, I'm expected to guard my mom. I can be very intimidating! I'm really proud of my prowess. Even big dogs run from me!

       Getting back to my day at the office, Mom writes, I sleep--most of the time. As I said before, it can be pretty boring sometimes, but other people coming in and out give me plenty of attention. When the day is over, it's back into the Jeep and home we go. That's my favorite time of the day, because Mom and Dad play ball with me before supper, and after supper I get leftovers! Mmmmm. My favorite, of course, is a steak bone, but I only get one of those once a week. Otherwise, it's maybe one or two pieces of meat, a little bit of potato, maybe a few crumbs of something else. Mom won't let Dad give me too much, says it's bad for me. What do Moms know?

       After supper, I get to cuddle on the couch with my dad for a while. We talk. Really, we do. I understand English, you know. Dad asks how my day was and things like that. Then, I hop over to where my mom is sitting and cozy up to her for a while, then it's to bed.

       That's pretty much my day, except for Sundays. Mom leaves me Sunday mornings for church. I don't mind, because it's just for a little while.

       What I really hate is when she goes away to a conference, or when she and my dad go on a trip together. I get so worried about them that sometimes I get sick. I am not at all happy. The days are long, and very scary. I mean, what if they didn't come back? What would I do?

       Life isn't worth living without Mom and Dad, especially Mom. She spoils me the most, and she always knows when I need something. She can read my mind. And you know what? I can read hers, too. I always know when she's thinking about giving me a bath or a trim. That's when I head under the bed where she can't reach me. I'm pretty smart that way. Mom even says so. Several times a day she tells me I'm the smartest, cutest, softest, sweetest dog in the whole world! And you know what? She's right.