This is so metaphorical for my life. I try to find some warmth and comfort on this cold ball of mud called Earth. I find something fuzzy, fluffy even. I snuggle in, feeling the safety of the organic cotton swaddling my sinewy body. AND BOOM!! I'm in an arm hole. What is that?!!? Who does that?!?! Oh, people with arms. Sure. Sure, rub it in that I and the mighty T-Rex share the same leg to body length ratio issues. I see the memes. I know I'm the butt of jokes. That's on-line hazing people. Injustice.
Things haven't changed much. Same ol' same ol'. Sleep. Snuggle. Throw up a pile of thread from left over socks stuck in the gullet. Read the NY Times Real Estate section. Sniff. Repeat. The mini-person is "potty training" now. Mother Person and Soft Touch think he's just "soooo clever." Not for nothing, but I was paper trained in a weekend. When I was 12 weeks old. Why the arrested development with this one?!?! (Now I have the song "Tennessee" in my head, and a penchant to upgrade my Netflix account...) I mean, sure, I happy wee sometimes. I spite poo more than I wish I had to. I rarely spite wee anymore. (Results aren't as satisfying.) The mini thing is more than happy to point out my spite poos and run around the apartment all pell mell about "bad wiener dog! bad wiener dog!!" AM I THE BAD ONE?!?! Or is that horrendous mother of mine who only gave me 27 seconds of snuggles and love when she came home?? Injustice!!! I deserve 45 on the SHORT end. Truly it should be more like 5 minutes, unless you bore me then it's fine if I leave. You deny me snuggles, you get a deuce in the middle of the bathmat. That's how this goes. Get used to it. Misery.
I have to go source a decent blanket. And I better get a handful of treats tonight, or bathmats beware.
Beans A. Wienerdog