Last night we had birds in our house. Now I really wanted one, two , or even all three of those birds. Of course, I whined jumped around and basically carried on in a ridiculous manner. I tried every trick in the book to get to them. The birds were smart, they stayed safely out of reach.
Mom kept trying to intervene. She picked me up and let me get real close to the birds, but not quite within reach of them, She cooed reassuring words, “It’s OK, Bamm, they’re just birds.”, and “Rammy, they’ve always been there.” (Which I know is not true- what self-respecting dog lets birds live in his dining room?) She even tried to take my mind off those feathered fiends with my favorite flamingo.
I was like a dog posessed. I wasn’t going to settle down, much less go to bed, until those birds had disappeared.
So Mom fixed it.
This is how the birds looked when I first locked my radar on them:
This is how they looked after their demise:
The Rambo rules!!