Pippi Gets a Social Disease

I’m taking over the blog tonight to tell my version of the flee story. Yes this Pippi, the one the only call me Pippi, Mrs. P if you’re nasty. I guess my friend Cubby better call me by my formal name! He is in the doghouse, that boy gave me flees. Now I’m not going to take any heat for smuggling up to a good looking mutt like Cubby what’s a girl to do. He didn’t tell me he had flees when we started hanging out. So there is no reason the peeps should have put me through all that trauma last week. I’m not sure if any of you know what a dip is or what that entails but let me tell you for a glamour girl like me it was undignified. Not only did I get dropped into a sink and soaked with funny smelling water but they didn’t dry me off. Oh yeah you better listen up doggy peeps, I was not permitted to run around and dry off on towels. They, I can hardly talk about, closed me in the bathroom to drip dry. Trust me I tried to give them grief but they were still mad at me. I mean come on what does a girl have to do to get some love?