Airport trips

Jon asked me to stay while he picked up P from the airport. I obviously did not want to stay home. He always takes me to the airport and it is really not going too well with me that he asked me to stay.

Photo by Kampus Production on Pexels.com

I have questions though.

Stay in this room while he gets ready?

Stay on this bed while he moves around the house?

I am feeling so active that we need to go pick up someone and I get to smother their faces with my saliva and remains of what I have eaten during the day.

He has not yet worn his shoes, so I am still in luck.

I looked around, wagged my tail every time he looked at me.

“No way homie!”

He uses different names for me and he is obviously in love with me, he always was and will be.

Right now I am only thinking about the airport and the drive there is really good. I don’t get to peep out much because the windows are three fourth shut but I can still enjoy the breeze and I get treats too while I can choose to roll in the front or back seat.

“C’mon now, get inside the car. We are getting late.”

A jump. A run. Into the car. Comfortably seated. I am off to the airport. Talk later folks!

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