When my people went away, I was supposed to have a dog-sitter, and I had prepared myself mentally for that. But then at the last minute, they pulled the old switcheroo on me. I stayed next door at Stanley's.
The people were really nice to me. They let me loose a lot in their house, and sometimes in my own house so I could smell all my own stuff. After a while though, Stanley and I had some harsh words for each other and they had to keep us separated. (I didn't mean to be a jerk Stanley. I hope you'll still be my friend.)
Anyway, I survived, Stanley survived, the neighbours all survived, and my people came back. Stanley's people even said they'd look after me again sometime. I wonder if they really meant that... I hope so. I had fun. It was waaay better than the cage at the vet's.
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