These famous words from the old disco song have real meaning for me right now. My nice family has given me away to another family. They just dumped me off with barely a good bye. My big sister didn't even come with me to wish me farewell. But it's OK here. I will survive. Tami, the new lady, treats me well. She feeds me and gives me my Kong with chicken and lets me sleep on the bed and all. So I'm not mistreated. And there are dogs to play with here, especially Mini. I'm a little scared of her, but not nearly as scared as I am of the shelties, but they mostly ignore me. I've grown quite fond of Bubba, the Beagle; we've become quite close. And I even have the opportunity to go on the computer, so I intend to continue blogging, for sure. But I miss my old family. Why did you give me away?
On an unrelated note, my pick of North Carolina in the NCAA tournament and subsequent recommendation to President Obama earned a glowing e-mail from the human Commander in Chief, a portion of which I copied below:
I can't thank you enough for recommending the Tar Heels to me. Your pick enabled me to win our household pool. Sasha scored higher than I did, but picked Oklahoma to emerge as the champion. That was my opening, and North Carolina's win sealed victory for me. I can't tell you what a ride it's been for me. First the White House, now this! I should tell you that we all agreed that the winner of the pool has the right to select the breed of the new family dog (of course provided it can be rescued from a shelter). In honor of you, I will select the cockapoo . . .
President Barack Obama