The Mailman Thinks My Name Is Otis

Hi. I'm Oliver. My name has been Oliver my whole life.

But my mailman calls me Otis. Otis is pretty close to Oliver. And they both start with the letter "O" so I don't mind too much. Especially since my mailman is a really nice mailman. He always says "Hi Otis!" when he sees me barking at him through the window.

I bark at him Monday through Saturday and he doesn't even flinch. He just says "Hi Otis" even though my name's Ollie and I'm barking my head off. I don't know why I do that, but I do. Maybe it's just my tough-dog instincts protecting my territory. Not that my mailman is a threat. He's a really nice mailman.

The only thing I don't like about my mailman is that he told my mom about the barking. She didn't get mad at me or anything--but what I do to protect my territory when she's not around is none of her business. If I want to bark my head off at the mailman every time I see him, she doesn't need to know about it. Just like she doesn't need to know that I wait until the very last minute to take a dook every morning so she stays home longer.

I know. Manipulative. But if I took a dook first thing, she could leave without worrying about whether or not I took a dook. My mom hates the thought of me having to hold my dook in all day, or worse, me letting my dook out on the living room floor. So she waits until I take a dook to leave in peace. And the longer I wait, the longer she has to wait.

Mom + Waiting = More Mom-Time For Ollie.

My mom also doesn't need to know that I'm scared of bulldogs. If we're out running and we go past a bulldog, I pretend like I want to sniff the bulldog, but I'm really planning my escape. I start bouncing all around to make it seem like I'm a cute, playful, spunky dog when I'm actually saying, "Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!" My mom doesn't speak dog so she doesn't know what I'm really saying. And that's a good thing. She doesn't need to know that bulldogs freak me out. She needs to think that I'm strong and tough and mean.

Ollie + Bulldog = Freaked Out Ollie.

There are other things my mom doesn't need to know about, but the sun is shining. Which means the squirrels are out. And I love to bark at squirrels. And the mailman. My mailman's a nice mailman. Even though he calls me Otis.

The end.

Ollie