- Dingo Bones. If they weren't smaller than me, I wouldn't be able to chew them and get the tasty red part out. Of course, I don't know how big an actual Dingo is, but they sure seem to have a lot of bones, so I guess a full-size Dingo is probably a little bit bigger than me. But just a little.
- J.D.'s Dingo Bones. They're the same size, except stolen, so better.
- A sheet of pasta. Like for lasagna? When I tug on one and it falls on me, I can carry it away on my back.
- A taco. J.D. said that one day someone was going to put me in a taco and eat me, but then I saw an actual taco, and they couldn't fit a whole me in one. So that's just silly.
You could make tacos out of my pawsIt's totally impossible to make a taco out of me. Don't even try, it can't be done. At all.
- Wendy's ear. When I play with Wendy, I couldn't take her on directly, because she's much bigger than me. But her ear is smaller than me, so I start by attacking the ear. Then she shows me her teeth, and I continue my attack by surrendering. (It's very psychological. It makes her think she's won, when really, I am preparing to put her ear in a taco.)
- Walnut Weevils. Yes, the squirrels are smaller than me. Unless smell is heavy. Because then they are much, much heavier.
- A far-away doggie. When we're in the car, sometimes someone says, "Silvie, look!" and I know that means they saw another doggie. But if it takes me a minute to look up, then the doggie is really really little in the distance. If I ever have to wrestle a Golden Retriever, I'm going to run really far away first, so it's really little and I can put it in a taco.
- Pictures of me. I think this might be why everyone thinks I'm so small. On the Web site there are pictures of me that are only a couple inches.
- Portions of chicken jerky. Always too little. Way smaller then me.
- My feet. I have four of them, so I must be bigger.
BIGGER THAN YOU THINK!