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Dear Mommy:
I escaped from the office where I was held captive over night. I found the kitchen - after falling down about two dozen stairs. BUT there are two food dishes and a tub of water here. Things are definitely looking up for this hound. The lady fed me the same boring food I got at the foster home but it's food just the same. The toitie is down another bunch of stairs and through the living room. On my way through I scoped the joint. There is a dog bed in the corner - pour moi for sure. There is a couch and a soft chair. Greyhound essentials! And a ton of plush doggie toys. This might just be alright - at least until I get back to the track.
The fur-ball living here is something called a border collie - some kind of canine genius HE tells me. And ego! The sun rises and sets…. I don't think so. He's one of those ordinary dogs - black and white and covered in hair. I'll just snip and snarl him into submission. His name is Angus. What kind of name is that for a dog? Apparently he lives in the laundry room in the basement beside a thing called a water heater. We have to share a toilet and, Mom, he doesn't even look away. So embarrassing!
Stairs everywhere. Can hardly get around. Have to master them and real quickly. Maybe I'll just have a nap while I think about them. That's a plan. Well, the bed sure is soft. Okay!
Must find that track soon too. Oh, I‘ll just have a short nap. And think!
Love and kisses,
Foxy
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