I done kept it real from the jump, living at my mama’s house we’d argue every month . . . I was tryna get it on my own . . . I just think it’s funny how it goes . . .[cos I] started from the bottom now we’re here, started from the bottom now my whole team here . . . “Started from the Bottom” by Drake
What’s up, y’all? Ma-annnnn, I been tryna get Mama T ta write for me for a month of Sundays an a year, but she ain’t nevah got time for nuthin now she be workin for huhself. But I done told her her arse need ta get a real job cos this ain’t workin for me.
We been in da new place a month or so an ain’t too much to like. We live in da country wid some country ass folks. An no damn sidewalks but dat ain’t really matter cos ain’t nowhere to walk no how. Mama T took me to the park. Sorriest park I done ever seen. Dey got mostly weeds for grass. An dey have these stations where you sposed ta stop an work out (jumpin jacks, push ups, sit ups, balance beam) an ain’t even got no sand in da boxes an da weeds growing so high you be taking a chance on getting bit by a snake if you do stop and push it up. I thought the Midwest was sposed ta be middle of da road. Dis mo like da edge of da cliff. I been bamboozled!
When Mama T brought me home, we had a huge yard. I was livin la vida loca. Now? Pshht, please. Drake say we started from da bottom but I started from da top an done slid down to a step above da projects. Let’s recap.
Dis was my yard in RVA.
Dis was my yard in Hampton.
Dis was my yard in Qcy.
Dis my yard now. An really, I cain’t call dis no yard cos by da time I jump twice, I done run outta space, its so damn small. Mama T say TT PAnn ax if she was scairt I would jump da fence. E-ish, have y’all seen my fat ass? I weigh 60 lbs. Ain’t gone be no jumpin goin on up in here. If I try an jump da fence, my ass might end up paled (impaled) to da fence an Mama T havta have a canine roast an be eatin poke fried rice for a long time. (Y’all know ain’t no poke up in dat rice dey be selling.) BTW: y’all know I still ain’t met my imaginary family yet? Nope, not even TT PAnn. Umph umph umph . . . .
So, there’s dis man cross da skreet, Mr. Reggie. Somethin wrong wid dat man. E’ry time Mama T walk out da doe, his ass be coming cross da skreet, “Hey, how you doin?” Always tryna sell somethin. Mama T started wearin headphones so she pretend she ain’t hear him. But that ain’t stop his crazy ass. He just change his strategy so then he started comin up behind us on his bike when we walk.
I cain’t stand his ass so e’ry time he come up on us, I jump him and start barking like I’m tryna kill a cat. Da last time he came up on us, he had da nerve ta ax Mama T if he could be her friend. Me and Mama T looked at each otha like, “Nucka you done lost you frackin mind. Hell naw you cain’t be my/her friend.” Now, I ain’t one ta judge nobody (specially not da po cos we is kind; we is smart; we is special and apparently we is po too) but how come po people be missin teef? Almost all of dem missin dat one toof in da front on da side. Mr. Reggie ONLY GOT da one toof in da middle in da front. And he think somebody want dat? I guess Mama T spose ta sit her fat ass in da basket on his bike if he take her out, huh? Uhn uhn . . . I cain’t see it.
So afta he ax Mama T dat dumb ass question, I jumped his ass. Ran him into a ditch and Mama T had ta pull me offa him. I didn stop growlin til me and Mama T got down da skreet. I could tell Mama T was tryin not ta laugh, an she didn even pretend to feel sorry fa him. She was like, in her proper work voice, “Oh, I apologize for her behavior. She’s never been so aggressive before. I don’t know what’s gotten into her. I should get her home to calm her down.” Not once did Mama T ask if he was ok or even offer to help him up an he looked like he was struggling. I was sittin on da porch when his crazy ass came limpin up wid his bike. So I growled and he limped his ass into da garage. He don’t come out no mo when Mama T walk out da doe.
So, what I like bout dis place is da food. Y’all know how I was eatin good in Richmond? Umm hmmm . . . man, people be throwin out all kinda food and I be eatin poke chop bones again. Luv me some poke chops. Y’all know only swine Mama T keep in da house is bacon so I only get ta eat it when I find it in da skreet. An I been findin a lot, dat and red beans an rice. (What’s up wid dat?) Mama T be fightin me when she see dem beans in da skreet cos she say it give me gas and I be funkin up da house but it be worth it.
Mama T: Worth it to whom, Donna? Certainly not me.
Well since ain’t nobody ax you, I’on think nobody care.
Ima try an get Mama T ta start typin again for me on da regular so we can stay in touch, but she gonna havta get a real job. She was sick last week, had a fever over 102, an she had ta stay in da bed an couldn’t work. Bible say you don’t work you shouldn’t eat an I like eatin, specially those Trader Joe’s pig ears. Yummm!
So she goin back to work if I havta drag her there myself.
An she need ta work so I can go back ta daycare. I need ta get out, meet some other canines and find a man. All I be doin is sleeping and being woke up by Mama T an dat damn camera phone. She act like she ain’t nevah seen a cute dog like me sleepin befo.
Welp, it’s been real good chattin witcha. Y’all holla back na, ya hea?
Chow!
Donna
P.S. Y’all check out dis video ta see my new hometown.
Mama T: Donna, stop being such a drama queen. You DO NOT live in the ghetto . . . yet. Keep pushing me. /:)
aintthatabtch 