We had visitors for the weekend. Part of our humans pack came to us. And with them their dog. His name is Loki. He is a puppy a bit younger than Dino. But I’m afraid he’s not a domestic dog, but at least a wolf!

He looks pretty funny. His legs are high, as if he were walking on stilts. Ridiculously short coat and pointed face. He’s almost all black and makes huge poo.

And he’s a little crazy. So far, I’ve lived in the belief that there is no bigger crazy in the world than our Dino. But I didn’t know Loki yet. He runs around the apartment like a tank. He pushes his big paw into us to play with him. He is so tall that he reaches for the handle and opens the door himself. Wherever it goes, something falls.

Dino and I had no choice but to crawl under the couch and watch the trigger. We would definitely be friends with Loki, it would only take time. In the end, however, his humans left us only their human cubs and took Loki with them. They were probably afraid that he would teach us all the crap and our owners would then go completely crazy about us.

When we go with our he-human to the last walk, it is already a black night. I have noticed that people do not see much in the dark. And so I sometimes use it. Just like yesterday. I abused my he-human’s momentary inattention and discreetly picked up a bone lying on the sidewalk. Pretty old and beautifully stinking bone, which God knows who threw it out.

Initially, everything went well. My he-human did not notice anything. The bone was small, so it fit almost in my mouth. I looked so inconspicuous that I must have been invisible.

But Dino ruined everything. He wanted to take my bone. I put up with a lot, but my kindness has its insurmountable limits. When it comes to bone, I don’t know my brother. I growled at him like an old wolf as he prepared to attack the bear. Dino started screaming as if I had bitten his willie. We frightened our he-human, who had headphones on his ears, and ripped him out with a terrible roar from listening to some certainly soulful audiobook.

When the owner woke up in fright, it was clear to me that is bad. I sensed that his suspicions were going in the right direction. He stuck his finger in my mouth and pulled out a bone. I didn’t bite him or growl at him. It’s bigger and we dogs have it so that the bone takes the bigger one. That is understandable. But I will never understand that he didn’t even taste it. He said “Yuck !!!!” and threw the beautifully stinking, slimy, old bone somewhere far away.