In my house, my people (everyone except Mario) cannot control themselves around Trader Joe's thick cut salt and pepper potato chips. I am sure the chips are really good, but I officially do not eat people food, so I cannot judge (of course, I help out by periodically cleaning all crumbs off the kitchen floor, but that is just good citizenship. After all, dogs can't vacuum). Well, I know exactly how my people feel. Self control is tough, even for we exquisitely bred dogs. For example, I know that I do not belong on this couch, but I simply cannot resist. The pillows beckon, "Rhythm, come curl your soft body on top of us. We love the sweet smell of your dog breath." And, before I know it, I am in a deep dog slumber, doggie Heaven. Until, of course, Mario or Mom catch me, and shout my name in that disapproving tone of voice.
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