My Mom is Just Not Coordinated

Dear Diary,

I am so sorry Mom. I really don't want to make fun of you because you are so old and all, but really, can you make us look any more dorky? Today we went for a walk with my mom and she tried to use two flexi leads that roll out to 400 feet each. That means if Phoebe pulls on the lead she can go to the store and back while still attached to a leash. And if I want to be a smarty pants, I can pull in the other direction and go to the park and back. Meantime our mom is still trying to hold those two handles, find the locking thing, and pick up the poop while watching us wander off. Silly Phoebe decided to pop down about 6 townhouses over and wander up the steps just to see what was cooking.

Mom is still trying to figure out the locking thingy and pick up the poop, so I thought I would help out and get Phoebe to follow me back home, across the street. That didn't work out so well. I guess those lamp posts don't let you tug the leash through. Apparently both of us got wrapped around the post while mom tried to pick up the poop, lock the thingy and untangle us at the same time. The only thing funnier would have been if someone had taken a picture of us like the man with the cell phone pointed at us, laughing his head off. I should have bitten his ankle.

Anyway, we made it home and mom wasn't sweating too much. Phoebe had no idea what had gone on because she is that way. I'm surprised we got to have a treat when we got inside, but if it makes any difference, I found the flexi leads stashed under the shoes in the closet. I don't think we will be using those again for a while. Or at least not with one person, two flexi leads and two dogs, and a few lamp posts in between.

By the way, I looked for Phoebe's ball today. Seems it is gone. I bet Phoebe popped a hole in it and the air went away. Mom and dad took all of Phoebe's balls away anyway. They said she had smashed her head too many times trying to catch it and she needed a break so her brain doesn't break off. I got news for them.

Later diary. Time for a walkie.

Love, Lulu