This week Dad decided I needed to get a job. I was so happy with my canine life, sleep all day, terrorize the neighborhood dogs, protect our house from whoever comes near. Besides, I like winter, I get to be lazy! That's when bad behaviour comes out says Dad.
Dad's giving me this job to do because I think Dad found out I was acting like a fool in the daycare this past Friday.
"So how was Brix in the daycare? He was a trouble maker wasn't he?"
"Well, to be fair, a lot of the dogs were crazy today."
"What did he do?"
"He just had so much energy! He was bouncing up and down at the end of his leash like a mad man."
"I'll know exactly what I have to do."
So today, Dad bought me this backpack for dogs. It's like a jacket but then two sacks clip onto the side. So far Dad is making me carry 4 bottles of water, two on each side. I'm like Dad's slave now. Dad says it'll help me focus on doing something when we walk and it will give me a good workout.
"Brix, good news I found you a job. You can start carrying some things for us."
"How much I get paid?"
"You get paid with our genuine love and care. You know how many dogs don't have food or a bed to sleep in? You should feel lucky."
"But I'm a small boxer, I don't think I can do it."
"Excuse me? You are a working dog breed. You need a job and I finally found one for you."
My first day of work was the night shift. Dad strapped me up. The backpack wasn't as uncomfortable as I thought it would be. 4 bottles of water was nothing for me. I got used to the weight real fast.
"You call this a workout Dad?"
"Oh, so you admit you like this job now."
"I guess I'm ok with it. I'll give you my 2 weeks notice when I quit."
Actually, I look like a stud when I walk with it. Maybe it will score me with some fine females. I look like a soldier from the Gulf war or something like that. Actually I look like my uncle Ron who use to carry a rucksack in the army....minus the rifle of course.
Guess I'll try out the new job, gain some experience and beef up my resume. Tell you how it goes.