Brickle’s House

This is Peanut Butter Brickle. You know, the persons talk a lot. They think that Fruitycake and I aren’t listening. But the thing is, we always are.

The other day when we were walking on the beach in this South Carolina place, the persons were looking at some houses by the water. They are really big houses. Pretty houses. Fit for a Doggo like me.

Boy Person remarked that it would be fun to live there in one particular house on the end. He said that I would probably love it the most. He said I could go to the beach and watch the water anytime I felt like it. He said he would buy it for me.

And I listened. Oh, I heard him. He called it “Brickle’s house.”

So when we started walking back to camp, I wondered why. If that was my house, Brickle’s house, wouldn’t we be welcome there? So I tried to run to it. I tried to pull the persons to it. They couldn’t figure out what I was doing. And then they figured it out. I wanted that to be my house.

Girl Person told me as much as she wished she could buy it for me, it was a bit out of their budget. But she said maybe some day soon we can get a house without wheels if that’s what I want.

I would like that house, and I’m not exactly sure how all this money stuff works, but apparently you can’t always have exactly what you want.

But you can find something else you want and may not even know it’s best for you anyways!

I’ll keep my options open. After all, there are many houses in many places. And only one me. And that’s the most valuable of all.

Peanut Butter Brickle