That’s me! Page 36 of the “Only Natural Pet Store” spring catalog with my “Can you hear my now” ears. They gave me a $25 gift certificate. I really want some treats! Treats! T.R.E.A.T.S.!! Maybe some chicken apple pie biscuits or beef stripes or even some trachea chews. (That does leave a scary visual, sorry.)  Anne says she HAS to get me something for my halitosis. Big time bad doggie breath, apparently.  Hellacious, she says. As in staggeringly rank.  It doesn’t bothered me.  I have no idea what she is talking about. She says that if my breath had come packaged with the photo to the magazine, they’d probably would have called a Hazmat crew. She was thinking maybe she should order herself a hazmat helmet just to wear most of the time, well at least when I’m around.  Do we think someone is EXaGGerAting? I know I have no personal boundaries. My space is your space as in, in your space. Sometimes I get right up in her face to get her to play and well, maybe I breathe too heavily, but it is a ploy, because she does get up immediately. But come to think of it, she usually runs away.


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