Good evening, Everybun!
I got up a little bit ago to check around, and the lunk was at the easel. The oat hay was better, though. I keep telling him, "That piece ain't exactly an easel dancer, if you know what I mean. It's not going anywhere, it's not moving, it's not moving me. Maybe slip it a hundred-cawwot bill into the frame. I mean, do something!"
Of course, he doesn't listen. Like when we have our cookies and he mistakes my interest in cookies for general approval of cheek rubs, back scratches, and such.
But we can't complain too much about a slow, cloudy, rainy day made for naps and comfort. The unnerving part will come tomorrow. Can we make it through a long weekend without having to make plans to see a V.E.T. the next day? Let's hope so.
Good night and good luck!
- Gus
No comments:
Post a Comment