I cannot help it. I am a dog. I must do dog like things.
I must get plastic bags off the counter that contain the last of the homemade foccacia that the Alpha Male was saving for her afternoon snack.
I must barf up pieces of plastic from previously mentioned plastic bag in inconvenient places in the kitchen where they can easily be discovered when the Alpha Male steps in the puddle.
I must go in and out and in and out and in and out and in and out all day long because, surely, there is something new that I must sniff in the yard.
I know I do wrong.
I know that things on the counter and in the garbage are not meant for me.
But I am a dog.
And that is the way that I roll.
I know!! I keep telling Grama that Bunny might be out in the yard. That Bunny is evil and is plotting to invade the house, I just know it. I have to protect Mama and Grama and Brudder and new Baby Sister from their evil plans. If I don't go in and out and in and out and in and out all day long, they might succeed!!ReplyDelete
...and that's why we don't have pets in our home! lol!ReplyDelete
Max reminds me one of my dumber-than-mud cats who likes to eat stuff he's not meant to. Things like gift wrapping ribbon, rubber bands and artificial grass from the Easter baskets I've yet to store away. (Don't ask me how I know what he's been eating.)ReplyDelete
Maxwell can come live at our house. Our deck is a favorite habitat of the local squirrel population. With a face such as you posted herein, who wouldn't love Maxwell! Come to Iowa, Maxwell! Come to Iowa!ReplyDelete
P.S. My word verification today is "phewo". Hmmm.....
Bailey says amen, brother, amen!ReplyDelete