Dear Diary,
January 12, 2026 – What a paw-sitively awful day! The humans say it’s too cold outside for our usual walk, like that’s some kind of excuse. Too cold? I’ve got fur for days! Dad just bundled up in his silly coat and decided to ruin my whole routine. No sniffing the neighbors’ yards, no chasing squirrels, no marking my territory like the king I am. I’m fuming, Diary. Absolutely barking mad.
In protest, I’ve been dropping it like it’s hot all over the living room – twerking my tail and shaking my booty right in front of the TV, blocking his view of whatever boring show he’s watching. And oh, the farts! I’ve saved up my best ones just for him. Every time he sits down, I hop up on the couch, get real close, and let ‘er rip. Silent but deadly, with that extra stinky flair. He waves his hand and yells “Reggie, no!” but I just give him the side-eye and saunter away. That’s what he gets for denying me my daily adventure.
If this cold snap doesn’t end soon, who knows what I’ll do next? Maybe chew his favorite slippers. For now, though, I’m plotting from my bed, belly full of treats I stole from the counter. I even gave him the sad face today and he still didn’t take me on a walk. Take that, Dad!
Woofs and revenge,
Reggie