Mike told me about this tennis dude Rafael Nadal, who just released an autobiography in which he writes about his dislike of animals, especially dogs. “I doubt their intentions,” he writes.
What bologna! I knew I didn’t like anything about tennis except those yellow balls. Guess Rafa won’t be coming around to toss some for me any time soon.
Besides, everyone knows baseball is my game. It’s a real thinking-dog’s game. In fact, ever since I received my indestructible, purple-and-white ball a few months ago, I’ve gotten much more adept at rounding up those grounders and high choppers Mike throws my way. I’m no outfielder, though: Considering the weight and density of this ball, catching even a lazy fungo between my teeth could prove fatal. One easy can of corn could turn my teeth into kernels.
So, since my major-league playing career might be limited I am instead volunteering my services as a mascot for the Seattle Mariners, Mike’s and Heather’s favorite baseball team (lucky for the Mariners, Syracuse University no longer fields a team in baseball).
Now, I know there will be stiff competition for this position:
But I think I’m up to the challenge. Being the Official Hot Dog of the Seattle Mariners will be my destiny.
So please vote for me below! As many times as possible! (Paid for by the Committee to Elect Chloë the Wirehair Dachshund.)