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Typhoon here to tell the entire story of my temper tantrum yesterday morning.
For those of you who do not follow our Facebook Page, the hu-dad posted a comment that as soon as I was loaded into my crate yesterday morning, I threw my biggest temper tantrum ever. He suggested – ok, he stated – that it was because I did not want to leave the beach.
The story is somewhat true. I did throw one big hissy fit. I screamed and yodeled and yelled. My sister Cheoah is well-known for her screaming ability, but even she sat back and applauded my screams. And I kept hollering while the hu-dad was driving the RV home.
BUT, it was not because I was sad to leave the beach. Don’t get me wrong, I had a lot of fun there, but that was not the temper tantrum igniter.
You see, as we were getting our early morning water in our crates, I might have gotten just a wee bit excited about going for our morning walk. My paws do not always land where I want them to and my front paw landed right on the water bowl and flipped it over in my crate soaking my bed. So, the hu-dad took the bed out to dry and placed a towel in the crate.
A towel. Can you imagine? I was expected to ride home for six hours with my butt on a towel. Egads. That is why I threw a temper tantrum. And once the hu-dad figured that out and placed the now dry bed back in my crate, I got quiet and promptly went to sleep for the next 30 minutes.
But then, see, we stopped and I got some water to drink and my paw went in the wrong place and I flipped my water bowl over in my bed again. Then I really threw a temper tantrum.
For some reason, the hu-dad has taken to calling me the Little Prince. I wonder why.
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