On bones, mountainsides and rolling in dry grass

Last night the people left me alone. Alone with a bone.

I don't mind being alone with a bone. I do mind when they come home and the bone goes away. Why can't the bone and the people be here at the same time?

Today it was very sunny. My person took me to Mt. Doug. We played in the shade of the trees and we climbed a hot, sunny mountainside. It was ever so wonderful.

The grass in the sun is brown-stiff-dry. It feels nice and scratchy when I roll in it. For some reason my person likes aiming big-black-eye at me when I'm rolling. She giggles when she does this. She says I look silly.

I do NOT look silly. Rolling is a very dignified thing for a dog to do.