And now, a word from your canine.
Mac here. I’m here to let you know what’s up in this household.
First of all, the hairier of the Furless Ones has been off work. It’s been a Testicle Festival here! (To be honest, I don’t know what testicles are. It must be a human thing; the smaller Furless One has been saying it since she heard it at some party last Saturday.)
I am now twice his age in dog years. I can’t wait until he’s in his seventies, just so that when he breaks wind I can scream, “Oh my GOD! What the Hell! What is wrong with you? Ellen, run!” And then Ellen will sigh, “Why is it necessary to make such a big– GAHHHH!”
I had a run there of about three nights in a row when I got a second dinner by barking at one in the morning. Then for some reason they just stopped responding. I know they were awake, because I heard them say things like, “Hang in there.” “Be strong.” “If he doesn’t stop after an hour I’m going to a hotel.”
What do they expect? They stay up until one watching gymnastics and feed me then. Of course I have gas. And they don’t let me eat the metal that calms my digestion, damn them.
4 responses to “Doggyblogging”
Diapers. Trust me.
Methinks Fingering Husband’s Rectum would be the headliner at the Testicle Festival.
I foresee a lot of searching on your blog. It might even best spunky labia and toe porn.
3 – For gas? Really?Catherine – You know, the interest in Fingering Husband’s Rectum has kind of dried up. People must have lost their taste for it. Becs – Well, we’ll see if I can knock Rock Creek Montana off its smug perch as home of the Testicle Festival.