Sundays are for pancakes, and I get my very own pupcake that Bleeder hand feeds me while Toast is eating his stack. I have since learned to demand a dip of maple syrup on mine, as pupcakes are a tad dry, but tasty nonetheless. When my stash runs out, there's always Toast stash, as he's a slow eater.
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| Excuse me, I see some pancakes on your plate |
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| Bleeder, why isn't Toast sharing? |
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| That's better. Good Toast, mmm, butter and maple syrup |
Bleeder doesn't like pancakes, so she then makes a toast croissant with cheese and ham... which I don't get any, but she does let me lick the crumb plate afterwards. Bleeder is very selfish.
Once again I had to spend time in my crate as another stranger came to the house and did things, but the end result is that we now have a backyard light that illuminates the entire back yard. I'm torn about this as it was fun stalking any wayward woodland creatures that happened to venture into my territory at night, and it also means Toast and Bleeder can see me stalking and doing sketchy things at night. The good part is that now Toast and Bleeder can come outside and play with me when it gets dark without falling into my gigantic holes, twisting brittle bones on my vast yard toy collection, and not run into trees. Of course that means the fun of watching them stumble about, and jump on them when they fall is over. Sigh.
They also had an automated po-po cleaner installed. Seriously? They have tongues. They are so LAZY!
I got some new squeaker balls!
I like to peel them and then grab them by the peel and fling them violently at expensive electronics, walls, glass, and heads. Great fun!
I also help with the house work. I'm a professional laundry working dog. I go downstairs to supervise the putting in of clothes. Then I go downstairs to supervise the putting of wet clothes into the rotating warm box. Then I supervise the clothes being taken out of the rotating warm box and into a basket (grabbing booties and small items that fall out and racing through the house refusing to relinquish them), then I get a cookie for the sock and then I'm gated out of the bedroom during the folding of the clothes due to my knack of snagging another bootie and repeating the process and getting a cookie.
Last week was "clean sheets" night, so the sheets got changed. They were perfectly good sheets. I only stomped on them with muddy feet once, so I don't know why they needed to be changed.
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| These sheets are perfectly fine Bleeder, stop being so picky |
Casey
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