Monday, July 6, 2009

I know exactly what's going on here.

Just because I'm nearly deaf and my eyesight fails me sometimes and I bump my head into the wall if I try to turn too quickly... Just because after a walk halfway around the block I'm ready to get my nap on (thanks for the orthopedic bed by the way, it's the shizz! as you youngsters like to say) .... Just because in dog years I'm 14, and in human years - well let's just say I knew Jesus before he had that hippie hair-do ... Don't assume I don't know what the hell's going on here.

You're cleaning like a woman possessed. The fridge is almost empty. You're even letting the eggs run out! Noooooooo! Now, you know I eat all but a few bites of food and meds and wait patiently for my egg yolk every morning. Ok, well, maybe sometimes I kick my bowl to remind you, but you have to admit you're a little absent-minded yourself. So, how do I get my daily egg-yolk if there arent any eggs? This is a fucking crisis, in case you haven't noticed.

So, what's up with all the laundry, huh? What happened to the one-load-at-a-time dealie... where you choose a piece or two out of the dryer until it's empty, then start the whole process over again? There are massive amounts of laundry being done. I see what's going on here.

You've changed light bulbs over the stove and in that little lamp you like to leave on for the *gulp* pet-sitter.

The pet-sitter is coming. Tell me the truth. She is, isn't she. That lady who gives me treats, and walks me a couple times a day, and scratches my butt - that lady?

When are you leaving, again?

Wait just a damn minute, here. What is this pet-sitter business? Here I am, typing this from my dark, crap-smelling cell, and you're relaxing at your home on a bed???

I mean, I knew something was up. Dad cleaning til 2am and the suitcases lying about are never good signs. I keep hearing the word "Disney", whatever that means, but I like the word because it sounds a little like "dinner". I digress. I don't know what to do any more. I eat a whole chocolate cake off the counter, they give me a stern talking-to and then leave me alone. Here I am, I've been a GOOD GIRL for months, and I'm back in jail. I think when I get back I'll eat one of the kid's stuffed animals. Why not? I'm already doing the time, might as well enjoy the crime.

Wait. What do you mean, "if I had let the pet sitter in the house I wouldn't be here"? That lady was the pet sitter???

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