. . . still in Cory Yellow Watch . . .

You'd think by now I'm done with my iamninoy/iamcory watch. I don't think I would be able to be done with all these yellow fever watch hooha.



I tried standing on guard at my fave red rocking chair . . . and still I see a lot of roaming dogs without a leash gallivanting down Rainbow Avenue on a rainy-hot, sunny-hot, all-weather-hot days and nobody seemed bothered except me. Keeper kept running back and forth wondering what the fuss is all about. And when Keeper sees all the stray dogs without a leash running down our street, nobody . . . and I mean, NOBODY can ever stop the shrieking/crying/lambasting Keeper from barking at the plight of all these poor homeless or abandoned dogs roaming around. Didn't I warned you that my Keeper BARKS the LOUDEST . . . Keeper said most of the dogs are not strays but are allowed by their owners to stray the streets without a leash!


Well, I kept at my SuperDog routine even while I was doing my yoga moves, on my back stretching my moody self while trying to breathe normally under my stress mode. Even if I am down and upside down with all my paws up, I can still see those running paws from under the gate of our house Heaven and I barked like crazy!



My big black brother Bogart must be deaf by now. He just managed to stay cool and calm beside me while I am close to having a hypertension.


Oh, it is a useless exercise of my superpowers really.
I can stand on all paws and bark out loud
and still most of the people in my neighborhood
are simply uncaring, law-breaking keepers!


WILL EVERYDAWG GO HOME OR WEAR A LEASH! FBOL!!!!





And in case you're not aware of it
we are now in Oh-Ghost (August) month.
The dreaded month where all sort of thingamajigs
would attack dogs like me and WHAM!
You get ticks, you get fleas . . . and you FLEE!!!!
You get hot spots . . . and you get to wear a HOTHAT!
You get nasty bruises and you get lambasted
and ridiculed even by your BFF-N (Best Friends Forever NOT)



It's a good thing I am done at the end of the day . . .
where I can remove my tattered, faded Cory-yellow shirt
and hang it on my dopey black Assistant's back . . .



. . . who will never, ever utter a single whimper.
Ahhhh, SuperDogs must have able Assistants
like my good ol' big, black, brother . . .




. . . so SuperDogs like me can do our job well. . .