Max the Rasta Dog
11 April 2009 | St Barts
Hea, this is MAX the Rasta Dog. I haven't written in a long time. I've been so busy traveling that I didn't have the time. I am in St. Barts parked off Shell Beach. I've been pretty lucky because the Admiral and Captain have been taking me to the beach almost every day. That might sound great to some but let me tell you that it does come with risks.
Every time we go to the shore I'm faced with others of my kind. I still haven't figured out how to play with them and they scare the poop out of me. Two days ago I met three long haired dogs of my type. What did they think they were hippies. When they tried to come over and talk I told them in no uncertain terms that I didn't like their type and they should move to another part of the beach. Yesterday this mammoth black dog was hanging around and when he walked by I lost my mind. I don't know what made me do it but I ran after him giving him a piece of my mind. Now that I think of it, that mongrel could have shut me up with just one bite.
I don't mind the dingy ride into shore but now the Admiral and Captain think I should swim from the boat to shore. Man that's a long way for a guy that has three inch legs. At least the Captain lets me rest riding on his chest from time to time. Then the worst part when we get back to the boat he makes me take a cold shower out back. What that about. I just got out of the water then you pour water all over me. These humans have a mean streak in them. I'll teach them, some day I'll just pee in their bed.