Wednesday, October 14, 2009


Who is this... Jim?

Every morning, you wake up hours before everyone else muttering about going to Jim. I don't know who Jim is, but I strongly disapprove of this relationship.

See, when I see you getting up early and lacing up those running shoes, that always means that I'm going somewhere with you. The park, the trail, the lake.... maybe just a walk around the block. That's our time and this Jim guy is stepping on my toes. And I have a lot of toes.

So listen, Jim. I've been cool about this, and I haven't said anything about this to The Man. What does she tell him when she rolls out of bed at 4:50am? Does he know about you, Jim? I don't want to, you know, hold anything over your head... but what if someone were to, say, somehow clue him in to you? Maybe she'd be mad at me for a couple of days, like that time I chewed up her shoelaces, but I bet without you in the picture, Jim, we'd be going for more walks.

Be warned, Jim. I've spelled your name out in venison-sweet potato kibble on the living room carpet. It's only a matter of time before the jig is up and you're out of the picture, and I get My Person back.

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