Hi. I’m Peanut. I’m an American Bulldog. Well, a Bulldog crossed with something. I don’t know what. But I do know that I like to eat paper. It’s so yummy.
But one day, I chewed up this thick stack of paper and Mommy got sad. She was like “Even the dog doesn’t get it,” which I thought was weird. Because, um, I’m a dog. I don’t get much. But I snuggled Mommy anyway. I can tell when she needs a hug, and I just drop my chin onto her lap. I’m good like that.
Especially when I know that I’ve done the bad thing. I don’t always know what the bad thing is until I do it, but then I know. Oh boy, do I know. I feel all sorts of bad. And now I know that it’s a bad thing to chew up a bunch of paper that looks like this:
Mommy says that I had ironic timing, chewing this paper when I did. She says this paper thing now looks like how her insides feel when she hears people who have never taught and only read mainstream news talk like they know what her job is all about.
But I don’t think she meant that her insides are tasty.
I did the bad thing by munching on this yummy paper, but I don’t like doing the bad thing. I like doing the good thing! So, when Mommy took me to the picket line with her yesterday, I tried to do the good things.
I wore a sign like asked me to.
And I tried to make people smile by rolling round like a goof.
It was tough work. I got tired and needed to have a lie down. Mommy’s friends didn’t get tired though. They kept standing there and got honk, honk, honked at for a long time.
Now, I know that I’m just a dog, and that my opinion doesn’t really matter. But yesterday? I didn’t do the bad thing. I’d know if I did the bad thing. So that means that I did the good thing. And so did Mommy and her friends.
I just thought Mommy’s friends might need to be reminded of that.