What? Drake is writing a story about his life? Incomprehensible!! The dog is a lout and, despite his claims of pedigree, is most definitely not purebred! One of those nasty street dogs jumped his mother’s fence and left a litter of mutts to be farmed out to unsuspecting buyers as purebred Boxers. Ghastly!!
You, dear reader, should be reading about moi, the Golden Child, Princess Daisy, Goldie, Blond, Blond Goddess, Miss Daisy or by the name my human sister, Katie, named me: Dazey. I am a golden retriever of excellent lineage and keen smelling ability and am truly the favorite of the family especially when I bat those doe eyes and cross one front paw over the other. I reduce them to putty in my paws! I have a loyal following who fight over my attention and adorn me with cuddles and coveted spots next to them on the couch. My story is more interesting than the Supreme Dork’s tale. Oh, he didn’t tell you that nickname, did he? That’s my nickname for the wretched Boxer boy that wrecked into my life 8 years ago and spoiled the quiet sanctuary that my mommy, daddy and I had built and enjoyed.
His Supreme Dorkness Drake
Ladies and gentlemen, please let me steer you away from this sad, sloppy tale of a embarrassment I call my brother. Your time would so much be better spent watching the latest Downton Abbey episode or streaming intellectual Ted talk videos! His life is more like a bad reality show that should be called When Dumb Dogs turn Dumber and the reels would play out like America’s funniest videos playing footage of all the dumb antics Drake does on a daily basis.
There is only so much shtick you can take, right? Trust me...put this story down and open a copy of Call of the Wild. Now there’s a real male dog...howl!! Gentle reader...Drake is not Buck from Call of the Wild.
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