the dog label

Hi every woof and poof:

Sometimes I am really really bouncng like one of Chris' beloved tennis
balls. Yesterday everyting was great in the morning, and then in the
afternoon, too. But when we went outside for the evening route, I ran and
ran and jumped and barked. I love jumping up and trying to catch Chris' arm
with my teeth, which she is not fond of.

That night she wore a really strange shirt which was very long and was
puffed up a little by the wind. I thoght I'd try to catch it. O I did, and
there was a hole, a hole torn by my teeth.

Chris, for some reason, was not mad at that, but she prevented me from
jumping up on her and catching her clothes or arms with my teeth while
continuing the run and bark. Chris says that Hapoo, the dog before me, the
old royalty, had t5ied her temper on a winter jacket she had bought only a
few days before, and my masterpiece is the shirt. But she also explained
that this was the only piece of her clothing that I could label like this,
got it, Quito? Not sure, Chris, but I'll do my best to remember.
Cheers, Quito.