they call me Hoschi and that’s for a reason.
Day-to-day I am watching dad working at his „thingy“, hitting the small pieces and staring on the screen all day long, while I sleep away the day on the couch with my sister.
But today I made up my mind. Now it is my turn: I become a blogdog.
Every morning I walk my dad. As soon as we left the door I usually turn right and start my early morning patrol.
First, I see Manja, the black poodle lady. I really like it to make a beeline for her every morning, and every morning she is really frightened. Satisfied I can proceed.
I am very snoopy and check out everything and everyone thoroughly.
So I realized this morning, too that last evening the neighbours cat crossed the street again at the same place and slipped through the same whole in the fence. I stuck my head through it, as yesterday morning, because, I told you before, I am very curious.
But again the cat wasn’t there anymore, so I stepped backwards … and my head got stuck. „Ho! Ho! Hoschi“ – said dad. „stand still, I“ll help you out, big head“, and he pulled my head out. Frankly, I felt a bit sheepish about it.
As we kept moving I heard dad mumbling:“ Every morning the same procedure, sucks! You are not a big headed, you are pig-headed. Pig-headed Hoschi, pig-headed big headed Hoschi… I think I gonna call you piggy.“ Hahaha, how screamingly funny, okay- now stop it. No, do not come up with even more sophisticated names.
The rest of the patrol was quiet. We didn’t met any other shabby dog today,unfortunately. So I could make my business.
Luckily, dad decided to go to the bakery and bought some biscuits. I always get one and take it home in my muzzle. I love it because the people walking by look at me smiling, and saying:“ Oh look, the dog, isn’t it cute.“ Oh yes, mam, I am.