This is Fargo.
Fargo has something to say.
oooooOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHH!!!!! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HI HI HI HI HI HI HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO!
i love tennis balls.
love ‘em so much.
give me a tennis ball i want to DESTROY it.
it came to my attention this week that my wee puppy jaws are, in fact, now colossal jaws of a fierce terrifying DOG. I AM A DOG!
HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HELLO! HI HI HI HI HI HI HI HELLO! HELLO! HELLO!
and what do i do with these mandibles of might?
I RIP APART THE SQUEAKY TENNIS BALLS FROM PETCO AND ALSO THE GREAT BIG ONE THAT NEVER SQUOKE THAT’LL TEACH IT TO KEEP ITS MOUTH SHUT AROUND ME!!!!!!!!!!
still working on the wilson ones. those bastards can’t outsmart me forever. i have way more time to focus on their tennis balls than they do.
there is, of course, a downside to this discovery of the rippability of tennis balls.
i no longer have any tennis balls.
besides the wilson ones, of course.
but those are a puzzle.
i ripped apart all the squeaky ones. i ripped apart the big one. and when i started showing signs of an upset tummy (my tummy is not upset i am merely expanding my predation to the grass, which has gotten a little full of itself after it finally rained this week and mixed around all the smells outside), the male took the husks away. HE TOOK THE HUSKS AWAY! FROM ME! THE FARGS! HIS OWN FLESH AND FLUFF!!!!!!!!
and so. we embark on a new journey. to cause so much trouble this weekend that i get to go to petco, jump on all the employees, make a lunge at the guinea pigs, and go home with eight new squeaky tennis balls.
to be destroyed, of course.
