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 a terrifying BOOM! during our afternoon walk sends us running for the hills like a cheetah, we like to make sure we know where our mother is AT ALL TIMES, just in case we have to make a break for it again.
The Outside Is Very Overrated,
Irv, the Indoor Dog
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
Sometimes on Saturday, after a perfectly wonderful stroll in the brisk morning air that is destroyed by a pack of murderous squirrels who seem to have it out for us, we like to take shelter in the comfort and safety of our own home, making sure that our mother knows that there must be some precautions taken in the future so that we will never be that traumatized again.
Yours In Squirrel Alertness,