Listen up. I like my sleep. Particularly when I have back-to-back days of getting up at 4:45 am and getting home at 8 pm. The barking, running around and scratching at my door starting after midnight and carrying on into the wee hours of the morning is not acceptable. Perhaps you got into the Old Man's whiskey and were flying high, or perhaps the corn dog I brought you home after my ride last night was laced with heroin, but whatever the case it needs to stop before I turn into super-bitch and send you packing back to Helping Hands Basset Rescue, or better yet, to Aunt Becky's.
Also, just so you are aware, when I got up at 4:45 AM (again) this morning, I did not want the first thing I saw to be this:
If you insist on continuing to gut the green couch, the least you can do is clean up your mess.Hugs and kisses,
Your Mom
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Dear Mom,
If I've told you once, I've told you twice. That couch is the devil. We will not stop until we've taken it down.
Slobber and beautiful poop sculptures,
FLASH
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