Job Security and The Truth

Dear Diary,
Mom won't find you this time, diary... not under this pillow.  The nerve of her, sharing you with the world....


Anyways -  big happenings in our house.  Mom is saying that I'll be losing my job of watching the house, come Friday.  She says the house won't need watchin' since she'll be home all the time.  What the...??  


What about - 'oh, gracie.. i need to go to work so i'll have money to buy you bones' or 'gracie, you know i have to work otherwise you wouldn't have a place to sleep at night'?  Where'd that go?  


Now, she thinks this'll make me happy cuz when she leaves to go to work I put on the sad - I can't believe you'd leave me here all day by myself - face.  When in reality... the minute I see her car go up the road, I run for the garage door opener, retrieve the battery operated Barbie Dream car from inside, and ride around with the wind in my ears and the sun in my face.  


Places I've gone:  The Pet Store where I eat cookies from the bin to visit the less fortunate, the dog park where I pick fights with black dogs mingle with others of my kind, and the dairy queen where I pig-out dog-out on vanilla ice cream and french fries.


I guess this foils the plans I had of visiting California to see my boyfriend Samson in the future.  I even had an extra battery charged up for the trip out.  Grrrrr...


  Mom doesn't know the truth about me. 


 And Diary, dear Diary...  Don't you dare tell her!!!