You can call me Oy.

You can call me Oy.

I am obviously not the first dog in this rodeo. I am not even the first corgi. These people seem to get me. They also seem to get me confused with the thing they call the Max. And then there is THE IONA. Yeah, that’s the Queen corgi. Apparently she was pretty awesome as the Lady keeps slipping up and calling me her name. There’s some serious sentiment around that bitch.

Not to worry, as the Lady doesn’t know all I am yet. Seriously, before I got here my name was Sarge. Enough said, party people; my name was Sarge.

Things are picking up around here. That’s good, because I was a bit bored those first couple of days. I arrived from Texas on Saturday, and I’ve been expecting a welcoming party ever since. Have I mentioned how cold it is here? No cotillion and it’s cold. Virginia sucks. 

Even though I’m party-less, these people are cool. I may be short, but I have the upper paw here. I am so awesome that I know I’ll get away with some shit. It’s already fun to fuck around with them. I do bring all the boys to the yard.

I learned how to climb up stairs on Wednesday. Good luck to you, Lady. 

One response to “You can call me Oy.”

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