Sometimes on Saturday, after we ambush Larry the gentlemanly pug who has accompanied his father, one of our parents’ favorite humans, for a nice visit, our mother relegates us to the upstairs by using the laundry hamper and a pile of pillows as a barricade to keep us from creating further discord.
All posts in Saturday SlobberLove
Sometimes on Saturday, after a sudden downpour ruins our chances for a carefree bowel movement on our morning walk, we like to squish ourselves into the creases of the living room sofa while periodically making sure to open our eyes in order to keep track of our mother.
Yours In Constant Surveillance,
Oren the Observer
Sometimes on Saturday, after a failed attempt at getting our little brother to shut up by attacking him, we like to remove ourselves from the situation and wait for our mother to join us in our silent protest until she gives us the opportunity to share our grievances.
Sometimes on Saturday, after an unusually long and violent sneeze attack, we like to discuss our reservations with our mother while simultaneously leveraging the upsetting experience as a bargaining chip that will entice her into playing yet another game of Throw Sharkey.
Where There’s a Will There’s a Way,
Otis the Opportunist