“Ouch!” said dad.
They were really nasty, long, sharp spikes! Not thorns, like you will find on dad’s rose bushes.
No, these were spikes … deadly spikes!
“Ouch!” said dad again.
Now usually, when dad does yard work, he will save any nice branches for me and then toss them for me to fetch. But not this time.
But I was patient. I looked at him expectantly. And dad took his clippers and cut off ALL of those spikes.
And when he was done, he gave me that branch to play with!
That’s why I like my dad. He’s always thinking of my welfare, and my health, and what is good for me. I took that branch and we played tug-a-stick for a while, then he threw it and I chased it for a while, then I took it over to my shady spot to chew on it in private.
Dad risked life and limb to cut off all those spikes for me. He did that so I could play with my new stick. He’s a great dad … but there is one thing that he could improve upon. He needs to get some better bandaids! He needs some with a PUPPY on them, not some dumb purry-thing!