Petit Jean Mountain

These are my humans.  They are not a bad sort, in fact, I love them.  I love them so much.  But sometimes I think they are dumber than dirt.

Let me introduce you to them.  First, there is the male.  I can’t call him Master because, I’m a YORKIE…and nobody truly ever masters a YORKIE.  But if I DID call him Master, I would have to say he’s a good one.  He’s the one who gets up and feeds me every morning.  He’s the one who makes sure I have water in the bowl.  He’s the one who greets me FIRST when he comes in the door.  Oh, he’s also the one who gives me those horrid baths, and nasty hair cuts.  Well, no one is perfect.

Then, there is the woman.  Now her I like a lot.  She understands that my place in on the furniture and in someone’s lap.  She knows I get bored sitting around the house and that as smart as I am, I need outside stimulation.  Hence she will take me riding periodically.  She even understands that once around the block is not sufficient and that I don’t really like to chase squirrels like the male keeps trying to get me to do.  When the weather is nice I let her take me on walks, and I will sit for hours and let her brush me.

The two kids?  Well, let’s just call them princess and the photographer.  See if you can guess which one is which.   They’re mine and I love them, but so far I haven’t found a use for them.

Here’s where the dumber than dirt comes in.  For the entire time they have been my humans, we've been a resort family.  We do resorts.  We don’t do camping.  We don’t canoe, or climb mountains.  I KNOW they knew this.  They have taken me on a few great trips and when I didn't want to go, they let me stay at another of my human’s place…with someone they call Granny.  Or better yet, they take me to Grandmom and Granddad’s (that is a place I love ‘cause I get to rule over the other three dogs trying to boss me just because they are bigger).

But this year, they decided to grow.  To expand their horizons.  To be more active.  To that end, we went camping on Petit Jean Mountain.  Camping.  Hello…..WE ARE NOT AN ACTIVE FAMILY…WE ARE HOUSE POTATOES.  Not just COUCH POTATOES…HOUSE POTATOES.  We hang around the house really well.  I have three different spots I must warm daily.  I've got all the furniture marked exactly like I want it.  Do you KNOW how many spots needed marking on Mt. Petit Jean?  THOUSANDS.

  

Not only were they ill prepared, they treated me like a dog.

They kept saying things like – He’s a dog, he’ll love this.  He’s a dog, he brought his own fur coat (well I might have but you SHAVED it OFF).  He’s a dog…he’s got 4 legs.  He’s a dog – YORKIES were bred to hunt.

Listen up humans…I may have 4 legs but they are only three inches long.  And yes, my ancestors were bred to hunt…BUT SO WERE YOURS…You don’t hunt to eat any longer, why do you keep acting like I should know what I’m doing.

I am not happy with these humans.  I will take about 2 weeks of sulking before I let them off the hook.  For years Humans have trained and bred us to be LAP dogs…we LIKE that.  I allow you to be my humans because I thought you understood. Don’t be changing on me now.

I still love them and I’m glad they survived the wilds of camping, but I MUST insist that they realize - we don’t do camping….we do resorts.

Bear (oh my human woman calls herself Debora)