I am not a dog

I don't know why everyone thinks I'm a dog.  Okay, I know I have four short little legs and I walk on all four and I just happen to have a body shaped like these other creatures who really are dogs.  But I am not a dog.  Look into my face, look at my eyes.  Don't you see, I'm not a dog.

I am Baylee, the beautifully elegant ... well, I don't know what I am, but I am not a dog.  

If these other creatures were not here I know that my life would be so different.  For one thing, I would not have to sleep in the kitchen with that Sawyer boy-dog.  I would have my own little crate next to my human Mama's bed.  And I'm sure I would not have to eat that kibble food, although it really isn't too bad when it is mixed with some sweet potatoes or fresh veggies. Plus, I would not have to tolerate the wild playing and rough housing that goes on between the creatures.  Do you really think I enjoy having you pull on my ears and roll me around?  Enough of that nonsense!

And that Bentley boy-dog, good grief, he will not leave me alone.  I know he just adores me, but I really get tired of his flirting and what is with that trying to jump on my back.  Really, guy, I'm spayed and not interested in that stuff.  Thank goodness my Mama doesn't crate me with him.  He just can't leave me alone.  He is a dog, I am not.

The only itsy-bitsy thing that might make me be like a dog is that I love the trash.  If I find a bag waiting by the door to be taken out, it is all mine!  Rip, rip, rip and it is all out and over the floor!  Mmmm, garbage. But my fondness of trash is just my little secret.  Oh, did I mention that I love to chase cats, too.  But I am not a dog!