This is Deputy Digby Pancake. Sometimes, you gotta do things you don’t wanna do. You know, like admit that it is only Tuesday and you wish it was Humpday. Or maybe that’s just me. I hear persons like Friday, so whatever floats your boat. What floats my boat is extra syrup.

Yesterday, we drove. And we drove. And we drove some more. We left that beautiful Great Basin National Park which wasn’t as bad of a bathtub as I thought, and we headed back to Las Vegas, Nevada.

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I couldn’t understand why we were working so hard and driving back so far to go somewhere that we left last week. This seemed like a lot of work, and I am not about a lot of work. Sheriff Brickle wasn’t too thrilled about it either. That is putting it lightly.

But the persons explained that the animals needed our help back there. And that the extra work was worth it. Ok. Question, however. Do I get a raise for this?

Girl Person told me that I should not complain and be happy that we have the chance to do some good and to tell others about Vegas Shepherd Rescue and all of the animals there in that county that need help because there are TOO many that need help. She showed me a picture of Ellie Mae and said we had to work hard for her and others.

She said that we should consider ourselves fortunate to be able to travel together. Ok, I get it.  But. Another question. Are pancakes involved in this?

I would like to know who decided that working was a good thing. Who decided that putting on pants each morning drinking a big cup of melted beans was a good idea? Who decided that doing work was better than lounging around without pants, on a couch all day with a big plate of pancakes resting on your belly? Certainly not any of my relatives I tell you.

If I would have known that we were going back to Las Vegas, I would have saved some extra pancakes to play in the slots again. Actually, I would have ate them already. Pancakes would burn a hole in my pocket if I had pockets, but I don’t wear pants.

Now. Since I am on a roll with butter, and apparently have no choice but to work for a livin’ for another six states, I have a few more questions. First. Since we are going to visit a German Shepherd rescue in Vegas, and they are considered a “working breed”, why didn’t they drive to us? And since they like to look for things in search and rescue operations, can they find me some pancakes?

That is enough questions for the day. This workin’ for a livin’ thing is hard sometimes. Today is our visit with Vegas Shepherd Rescue in Las Vegas, Nevada. Then, Wednesday, we are back on the road and headed to somewhere called Utah. Do y’all know about Utah? Do they pay in pancakes? I can’t wait to find out!

-Deputy Digby Pancake

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