Whine, Whine, Whine


Squuuuuueeeeeek, squeeeeeeelllllll, eeeeeeeeeeeee some one is not happy.

someone is in trouble. Someone who is cute and fluffy. Someone bigger then a bread box. Someone who is not Kitty.

The someone in question knows why they are in trouble. I know they know. They know I know. We all know. Squeeeeellllll

Someone didn’t start off their day in trouble. In fact, someone was a very nice not kitty this morning. Very fuzzy, very furry -all the good things

It rained almost all day today. It was warmer at five after six this morning then it was at five after six this evening. So, since it was raining and raining precludes walking, I was planning on getting gas for the car after work, the car is very thirsty and it really wants a drink. But.

It stopped raining. In fact, it was glorious. So, no gas getting, back to walking. I really peeled rubber on what fumes I have left, home since not only was it not raining, it was all sunshiny with the attendant glorious – ness and sunlighty goodness . Very good for walking.

So truck is thirsty and yet I ignore its needs, later I’m going to have to get fleeced at the station at the corner to get enough gas to get me to the real gas station so I can go to work tomorrow. I should mention, its cold. Very cold outside and the gas station is outside. In the cold. And now, in the dark. Brrrrrrr.

For my Dogger.

Dogger, Dogger, Dogger. Tsk. We got for our walk. Actually, we go to the field so she can run off leash and be all doggy. I threw a stick she fetched the stick. All Good. She hasn’t grasped the whole returning the stick thing, but she runs at me with the stick, she doesn’t give it back, and she won’t hand it over it I ask for it, but she does know the stick needs to come back in my direction.

During on of her run pasts with the stick I try to get it away so we don’t burn any more sunlight just running around and not fetching. Running is fun, but it isn’t as interactive as I would like. If I’m going to be out in the cold, I want to have something to do.

So. I want the stick. She wants the stick. She has the teeth so she keeps the stick. Fine, there are other sticks.

We do this every time.

Now, this time. I really want the stick. I want the stick. I am the person, there is no throwing of the stick with out the Person and there are no other sticks. I wanted the stick.

I get the stick. Yay me! Boo! On the disobedient Dogger who barked and carried on and showed her ass all over the field. Thank god we had no witnesses to this. I mean other then the several square miles that had to hear her carrying on. I get the stick, and while I’m walking away from her so I can give it back to her, she’s hoping about and lunging at me. Whatever.

I tell her to get back. About three times. At varying volumes. Blah, blah, blah She ripped the knee of my sweats and now my knee is cold and my pants are ripped. I can’t be too mad, my whole family has clothing with holes thanks to Kitty, but.

Waahhhhhhh! These were my good sweats!


Sqeeeeeeeelllllllllllll, eeeeeeeeeeeeeee