When I wake up in the morning, I try to just do my own thing. Lap a little water. Work on the Blue Bone of Infinite Vexation. Maybe step on Ms. P’s face a bit.
Activities I enjoy, all. But you know what I’m not so down with? Having to re-mark the computer every day. I mean, shoot, every time I hit that thing with a hot golden laser of Lionel’s Own, Ms. P rushes over with a wet sponge and erases all evidence that the thing belongs to us.
I’m protecting our assets, Ms. P! What, you think you’re the only one keeping our shit safe? I don’t see you barking at that Pomerasshole from upstairs when he prances past the door. Who growls at the birds? And when was the last time you bit a guest on entry?
When you actually do contribute, by “locking the door” or whatever, do I rush over there with a sponge and turn that deadbolt to the left? No, I don’t. Mostly because my sharp sharp dagger claws are useless against your slippery human metals, but also because I recognize you’re making an effort.
Would it kill you to do the same? I’m only one puppy, doing his best…and sometimes it feels like you don’t care.
Well I’m tired of it. Despite what you may think, I’m not made of pee.
[...] instead of just marking it, I watched a few episodes of the curiously delightful BBC program Peep Show, then bloggy-paddled [...]