Daddy's Jeans

           Mummy has been asking me to write my story ever since she read Bo-Obama’s blog. She says I and Ginger are very special and we can tell beautiful stories too. So what if he is the first dog of the US of America and has a fleet of people to help him. Mummy will help us.


For the last two days I have been asking her to type this story for me. But she has hardly been talking. Now mummy not talking, that is SERIOUS!

She has her nose buried in this book. Last night she was still reading after all the crickets, owls and bats had gone to sleep.
I licked her twice, reminding her of the lateness of the hour. She just hugged me (arggh..as usual,she just hugs all the time) and told me to go to sleep.

How can I sleep with that light shining and she crying into her book time and again? Finally, she slept. But it was already time for those noisy birds living in the right hand corner of our garden to be up. Somehow I tried to sleep, tucking my nose and ears deep under daddy’s feet.

I think mummy is done with her book today because she has been following daddy all over the house talking as fast as I wag my tail. I also heard her saying she is going to help me and Ginger with our stories.

Now, promise me you won’t be angry with me. I chewed daddy’s jeans the other day.

I know, I know. But I can explain..Plzzz?

I was so bored. Daddy and Mummy had gone off hunting, though I cannot understand why they should go everyday. That big, cold box is full of so many goodies already.



I asked Ginger but she wouldn’t play. Said she has to catch up on her beauty sleep. Huh..GIRLS!!

I chewed on my toys for a while.


 But then there was that jeans on the bed. It smelled just so nice…reminded me of the thick bushes in the field that daddy takes us to for our morning play. It even had a little bit of the mud that I had splashed in that morning.

Just how much can a Dawg resist?



It was mummy who found the jeans. She shrieked, ‘look what Buddy has done!’ And then she started laughing. But daddy had the most severe look I had ever seen. He stared at me sternly and said I was a bad boy. So I didn’t jump up to lick his nose like I always do. And he wouldn’t hug me like he always does when he comes back from his hunting trips. I was really sad. I sat down and wanted to cry. But mummy came and hugged me tight and said it was alright. Then daddy started laughing too and said I looked real cute. CUTE! Calling a boy Cute? Oh ok, if it means I am forgiven, its ok I guess.

Mummy said it was daddy’s fault, not mine. He shouldn’t have left the muddy jeans lying on the bed. How can a Dawg resist? Besides, that pair was getting old and should have been abandoned long back.

Dog bless her!

She said she will stitch a pair of patch-work shorts out of those jeans so daddy won’t be sad. And she cut out some parts and gave them to me. So I won’t chew any more whole clothes.

But they no longer smell nice. They smell of that white powder mummy uses to dip all her clothes in from time to time. Yuckss!!