Persistent or Pathetic

For months, I have been applying for a position as a Pet Portrait Artist with a company that let’s just say rhymes with “Schmooey”. Every week or so I send another letter along with samples of my work and links to my website. Every week I get absolutely no reply. This isn’t the only place ghosting me. If someone doesn’t like my work, that’s fine, but I hate to waste my time and theirs with a bunch of unwanted letters.

Gma nags me to keep contacting these places, but I wonder where does the line fall between “persistent” and “pathetic”? How many tries does it take before I get the hint?


Little Cairn terrier.

Don’t kid yourself mom. You’re always pathetic.

I Have Exciting News!

Happy Cairn terrier pup

Hello friends!

I have some big news. I found out about a really exciting opportunity. It was so wonderful that I selfishly kept the news to myself so that I wouldn’t end up competing with friends for this spot. There were lots of tests and counseling and even boring essays to write, and after everything…I was the one who was chosen!  I will be doing a really important externship. The only catch is that I had to move in order to take the position. In fact, I already started my new job last Monday.

Before I left, an orange butterfly came to tell me that I was accepted. A few minutes after I left, I came back as another orange butterfly to show Mom and Gma and Gpa that I was OK and liked my new job. The next day, I borrowed a robin body to come back for another visit, but I misjudged and flew into the door and killed myself. Sheesh. What a week I am having.

On Friday I tried visiting again, but it was only in the 30’s outside.  Butterfly bodies won’t work in those temps, but there was a boring, practical house fly body that would work.  So, I popped into the house and decided to grab a quick sandwich before delivering my message when – whack!  Yes, it has been quite a week.

When I arrived on the Other Side, it was as if I had just scored the winning touchdown.  There were so many gathered around to congratulate me and welcome me.  There were high fives and back pats and plenty of tail sniffs.  It felt good to be home.

The title for my new job is the curator of the MOH (Museum of Heaven).  Seeing as it is a museum for dogs, I believe the first room I will fill will be the Hall of Poo.  All the most creative piles throughout history will be gathered under one roof.  Oh, and instead of a Comment Wall, we will have a Marking Wall.  Go ahead.  Mark away.  Everyone will love to sniff your tidings.

Please don’t feel sad, friends.  I am happier than I have ever been. (If you want to though, you can make fun of Toby. I know I will.)