You’ve read my perspective on mucking out the barn. Now Baxter shares his point of view.
Being a farm dog is a lot of work. The last few weeks, we’ve been cleaning out the barn.
Usually, Matt and Julia don’t let me in the barn.
They say it’s Ralph’s home, and she’s allowed to have her own space no dogs allowed. I don’t know what the big deal is. I don’t chase her too much. And I’m her brother. Aren’t I supposed to bug her?
The first time I came into the barn, it was very interesting. There were so many sniffs. Ralph was there too. And I didn’t bug her at all.
By the third weekend in the barn, I was exhausted.
Ralph was guarding her food dish, so I climbed into her bed. It’s a big pile of straw, but all of the nests are cat-sized. I turned and turned and turned, but I did not fit. I dug around and was able to make a dog-sized nest.
I gotta say. I’m a farm dog. But I’m not a barn dog. That straw was prickly. This is my not impressed face.
Ralph seems to like it for some reason though. She left her food dish and came over to give me dirty looks from the stairs.
Apparently I was still bugging her. My work as a farm dog and as a brother is never done.
Oh, Baxter. You have such a hard life.
Want more Baxter? Check out That Mutt tomorrow where I’m writing about his favourite toy. There’s even a give-away for your own furry friends.