At three and a half years old I believe that it is high time that I decide on a profession. Well, today I've finally made up my mind. I have decided that I want to be the dog of someone who does technical support. Here's why.
Over the last couple of days, Sister has been trying to fix a problem that my friend Rita has been having with her computer. Sister spent a couple of nights searching the Internet for answers (while I slept comfortably on her bed) and yesterday she worked on Rita's computer at work (I slept comfortably on Ma and Pa's bed--but don't tell them). Ultimately, Sister was successful; she solved the problem and managed not to destroy Rita's computer.
When Sister came home from work today she had a tin canister in her hand. Being Head of Security, I quickly scurried over to her and gave the tin a good sniff over (got to make sure it's not dangerous, you know). Well, let me tell you, it smelled absolutely delicious! Sister told me that Rita had sent her home with explicit instructions that the contents of the tin were for the "entire family." My tail started wagging in circles; I liked where this was going.
Sister opened the metal tin and started pulling out its contents. First she pulled out a zip lock bag of cookies (they smelled really good, but Sister said they weren't for me). Next she pulled out a second zip lock bag of cookies (they also smelled really good, but Sister wouldn't share them with me either). Finally, she pulled out a third bag with two cookies--one heart shaped and one bird shaped. These, she informed me, were for me. I started to drool.
So there you have it; the absolute best job in the whole wide world. Sister does the work and I get the cookies!
Thanks Rita!
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