It's Me, Sara Louise

Bonjour tout le monde!


Fifty here. I just wanted to say a big thank you to all of my friends out there that thinks that man wasn’t very nice in calling me a mean name and saying such a horrible thing about me. 


It’s true, I am part Staffordshire, (or so the lovely woman at the rescue center thinks and that not so nice lady who gives me my shots), but I’m not too sure. I never knew my father or my mother. My two sisters and I were found next to a dumpster when I was really little. But don’t feel bad for me, everything turned out OK, and now I have a real mommy and daddy who are both human, so I guess that makes me human too. 


But just because I’m part Staffordshire doesn’t mean that I’m bad. That’s plain dogism. Staffs were  booted out of France long before Sarkozy booted out the gypsies (I think that man needs a cuddle). Maybe because the government has been mean to some of my ancestors, that man thought it was OK to be mean to me too. 
(And if they want to kick any dogs out of France, I wish they would start with my cousin Python. He may only be a Jack Russell, but he’s meaner than any dog I’ve ever seen!)


The thing is, regardless of what my father and mother were, I’m a nice dog. I’ve never bitten, growled, or snapped at anyone (but I have licked… a lot!). My mommy and daddy raised me to know better. And I love people. People give me cuddles, and snacks. I’m a happy dog. 
And if that mean man had been nice to me, instead of being a dogist, and understood that it was those awful church bells that were making me bark, I would have given him a cuddle too. 

OK, I gotta go, I can here my mommy coming. And please don’t tell her that I sent this message. If she finds out that I was using her laptop again, I’ll be grounded.