I am NOT a goober face

Remember when I told you my foster people said I had a "goober face" so they needed a new camera and I thought it could mean I could have less rules?  I was wrong.  I looked it up, and I am thoroughly offended.  I'll let you read the definition.  Then...look at this face.  And tell me what is goober about it.  

 So, I had sort of a complex this morning after I got on the compeeter, and I was acting all sulky, and then all of a sudden, there was a knock on my door!  Chloe came to visit!  Chloe likes to visit my foster people because they always have new dogs here (another hit to my ego; I'm not the first to be graduated here).  Anyway, since you know I'm velcro, I knew Chloe and me would have a crazy, lovey play session.  See, Chloe used to play with Bucky, and then he got adopted.  You can see how much she loves him here.

I wagged my tail, and I put my butt in her face.  I licked her mouth and did jumpies all around her (I know dogs like that), and ya know what?  She barked at me.  So I rubbed my side on her side, and then I licked her face again, but all she did was run away from me.  We spent the rest of the afternoon like this.

Chloe's dad said that she was being a "diva" and a "pill," and just needed time to warm up to me.  I hope this doesn't take too long.  Maybe we'll try again this week, and I'll rub my non-goober face in her neck, and put my bottom in the air, and try even harder next time to make her love me.  I mean, I am optimistic by nature.

Until then, I'll keep myself busy with other important things.