Since I busted out of Oaktown, I’ve been put through a lot of training devices, books and consultations. Apparently my pawrents think my behavior needs some modifications.
They don’t like the fact that I’m so expressive, like when I bark my head off at the enemy, or go after small dogs who look like squirrels to me. Yo Mom and Dad, this is my JOB!
I think I’ve been pretty nice in tolerating their attempts to make me into a wussy. I thought I had seen all there was to see when it came to dog training.
But last week, this lady blew my mind.
We met some rodeo chick in Fort Collins who supposedly can tame even the wildest, biggest beast. She runs the Bad Boy Dog Skewl in town, and guess who got thrown into her rehab program?
She told Mom and Dad she guarantees they’ll get the dog they want.
Lady, you might have a big belt buckle, but you’re dealing with a member of the Oaktown Pack.
Wyatt. Ray. Dawg.
Put your dukes up!
Game ON!