It's too dark to read inside a dog, but you can try:
I didn't do it!
so tell her
and let me get my rest.
Sorry, it's difficult to keep up with blogging when you're busy dealing with a smitten kitten. Though obviously not smitten with anything of good use. The other day the girl was telling me how much she loved me (a hobby of any worthy individual) and I noticed a current trend which is worriesome:Wednesday, March 19, 2003
The girl: I love you more than anything.
Me: *rolling over so she can scratch my tummy*
The girl: Well, except for maybe cute shoes......
Me: *stretching so she gets my side too*
The girl: and chocolate.. and a new episode of the gilmore girls
Me: *squirms as she stops scratching so diligently*
The girl: Well, I love you more than going to the dentist.
Gee, thanks.
Flailed by Flan 11:31 AM
If my girl wears a cat mask am I then given automatic permission to bit her and not get in trouble?Sunday, March 16, 2003
It was instinct!
Flailed by Flan 6:24 PM
One of the worst things about being a dog is how everytime you turn around (which if you chase your own tail can be quite frequently) someone is multiplying your age by seven and saying that's how old you are. No, I am three years old. That's it. No more. No less.Saturday, March 01, 2003
Yes, I am younger, cuter, and in better shape than you. Face it, stop trying to make me feel bad by multiplying my age by seven, and get on with it.
Flailed by Flan 6:35 PM
Yesterday was my birthday.
Now, I'm old. I think I spied a wrinkle this morning. What if I'm turning into a shar-pei? Am I already old enough for a mid-life crisis?
Flailed by Flan 9:34 AM
