the baby and the big

Hello everybody:

I think I had a good week. I was allowed to greet two dogs. One was waiting
by his lady and a baby in a box on wheels. I begbged to greet him, so Chris
took off the harness. I had met him one of the very first nights of being
with Chris, but she was afraid we could get into something unpleasant. His
owner and she had long talk back then, but that day Chris took off the
harness and I greeted him. He is a little too rough for me, he is quite a
bossy one. We had to leave, and I was not very reluctant to foloow Chris.

Then one night all of a sudden, while Chris and I were in the car with the
friend who studies Spanish with her, the ladies decided to go to the beach
with the roaring water and the endless sandy beaches. I wanted to run, but
Chris did not let me off the leash, although I stayed with her when she had
let me run at the car parking space at work, even across the street, where
no more cars were passing by that time. The beach experience was fun, we
even walked towards the water, and I tried to sniff it. But the friend said
she did not want me to get all wet. Chris got attacked by a thousand
mosquitos all of a sudden, so we returned, and at the restaurant where we
had been before the ladies had whine and talked some more. I like those
relaxed nights.

Yesterday at work we saw a little tiny puppy. One of the friends had brought
her. She gave her to Chris, who had me sit and passed the leash on to the
friend. Chris petted the dog and exchanged kind greets with her. Then she
put her on the ground, so I, too, could say hi. The poor thing kept walking
backwards, though I just wanted to see iif she wanted to play. I think I
looked too big and huge and scary for her. So Chris picked her up and gave
her back to the friend. Everybody says she looks cute. Chris says, I, too,
was at work when I was a puppy, played with Hapoo and occupied the dog bed
that used to be hers but is now mine. And I have always been a great kisser.

Allright, off into a new weak wiith a defeat of the Roger man in a tennis
final. O by the way, another ball is flying in the mystery box. They call it
football, and the ball flying marathon is called world cup. Chris' teams she
calls the Germans, are playing a fantastic match, while my email friend
Bounty's mom's team haven't convinced anyone.
And funnily enough tennis Rafa's team will face tennis Roger's team in a
couple of days soon. I'm off, Chris wants to run and check the bread she is
baking,
cheers, Quito.