In the morning, Nice Mister and The Kid come to open my crate, I spazz around the house a few times to let everyone else know that I'm up and about, and then we do what Nice Mister has apparently deemed, "Love Time."This entails Nice Mister sitting on the floor with me saying nice things to me while I lean on him.
It also often includes The Kid talking to me about all kinds of things like how that red, yellow, and blue thing that doesn't taste like
anything but is fun to chew apart isn't a dog toy. The Kid kept referring to it as his "fire truck." Anyway, The Kid tries to teach me stuff but it's hard to figure out what he's saying since this communicating -through-sounds- instead -of -body -English-
language-thing ain't exactly easy to learn. Something about how rotisserie chicken isn't dog food, it's people food, and how I'm a dog and not a person blah blah blah. I wonder how I can teach The Kid to just give me the damn chicken! But I digress.
At the end of "Love Time," Nice Mister and I go running so I can make sure all my designated pee spots are still mine. And then, after Nice Mister goes to work, I play and lounge around.
My foster sisters are pretty cool.
Isabelle's lots of fun but Nice Lady doesn't seem to like it when I take flying leaps onto Isabelle's back.
Whodathunkit?
But she didn't seem to mind if I just lay next to her, so we do that.
And Lucy's still bitchy as ever so I have to put up with humiliating things like serving as her chair. Oh if my "friends" back home could see me now.
And if I get really bored, I can always entertain myself.
Or just chill.
Good times all around.
Not bad. Not bad at all.
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