Guest Post by Sunny, Princess of Violet Acres
We all know that dogs can't talk. Bet you didn't know that dogs can write Blogger Idol entries. Well, picture this . . .
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I'm a very small dog. My favorite place to be is somewhere warm and comfy, like Mom's lap.
When people ask Mom what kind of dog I am, she just laughs.
I came from the pound, so whatever kind of dog they have at the pound is what I am.
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Life used to be that way a long time ago - before all the leaves fell off the trees and the cold, white stuff started falling out of the sky.
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It's warm in the house. I like to be warm.
See my curly chest hair? It's a snow magnet. I have to wear a stupid looking coat when I go outside or I get covered with ice balls.
When Mom says it's "around zero" I know that I can't walk very far without my feet hurting.
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You are a great God.
Thank you for my wonderful home.
Where did the leaves go?
Where did the grass go?
Where did the flowers go?
As soon as it pleases you, Lord, little dogs with curly chests need the snow to melt and the sun to shine and the earth to return to normal.
Amen.
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