It’s a dog’s life: Molly knows she is a pampered pooch

Hi, my name is ‘Stopthat.’

Sometimes, my humans call me ‘Getbackhere,’ but you can call me Molly – Molly May Schroeder.

It all began when the boss picked … ME.

Out of seven other brothers and sisters, it was me that they picked. Shocker.

From the day I entered my new home I was the star of the show.

Right when I walked through the door (What is that thing anyway? Why do the humans not want me jumping on it when they get home?) my life in the spotlight began (but with a few bumps).

First, it started with the bathroom situation.

All due to the boss’ high expectations, I had to change my entire lifestyle.

I had to start going to the bathroom outside — even when that cold, white, fluffy stuff is covering the entire bathroom/yard or when water falls from the sky.

They never go to the bathroom outside, so I still do not understand why I am forced to do it.

Not to mention they harvest my poop, which is weird.

Due to this outrage, I do not believe that my humans appreciate me.

I mean, if it was not for me, they would end up losing dozens of balls every day.

And without my barking, the mailman would probably murder my human family, so I am basically a hero for scaring him away.

Whatever he puts in that box on a stick outside is obviously dangerous.

Do you understand my frustration?

Plus, they leave me home alone a lot, which makes me really sad.

Like super sad.

Sometimes I am so sad that I feel the need to poop on the new carpet.

I do not understand why they cannot just take me with them wherever they go outside of the door.

Can’t they see I obviously love the car window?

But only the one in the back on the right side. They may think I am picky, but this window is a necessity.

It may be shocking, but I have lots of necessities.

Including the couch — the humans and I need to talk about that.

First, they tried making me sit on the floor instead of the furniture with them.

This idea was obviously crushed, but still needs some grooming.

And on top of all of that, they expect me to attend to their every need.

Anytime they call my name, they expect me to drop whatever I am doing and walk over to them.

Ridiculous.

But enough about them, let’s talk more about me.

I have two favorite hobbies – eating, chewing on electrical cords, and eating some more …. Maybe that is three.

But the humans only feed me three times a day, can you believe that?

I should be eating AT LEAST every 16 seconds to keep from starving.

Someone needs to call the Humane Society, because obviously these people are not humane.

But, overall, I am happy with my human family, even if they pet the neighbor’s dog (who is a real mutt, by the way).