I was wurled from Atlanta to Pittsburgh in January 2006. It was great practice for a handsome Wheatie who would love to sit on a big float and lead a parade of his peers.
Walk? I have to walk in the parade? Well, alright, but we're going to stop for ice cream and an occasional piece of cheese...and I'm going to need a belly rub and some kisses and maybe a chewy bone...who's going to brush me?
I'm a Wheaten. I need a lot of attention.
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