The Hundred and Twelfth Moan

They’ve done it again. They’ve gone ahead and spoiled what was supposed to be one of the best fortnights of my life. The cat’s just gone, Christmas is near [well, almost] and they’d just informed me that they were going to yet another vacation and leaving me home alone.

Which meant I could invite all my neighborhood friends [OK, by “friends” I mean “friend” and even SHE only just tolerates me] for a combined “Welcome 2015/Buh-Bye Cat!!” party. And I may not be that popular among my canine-friends right at the moment but won’t a smashing bash change their whole opinion of me??

I had it all figured out. I would throw the party of the century, gain hundreds of new buddies and then never have to life a paw to do an ounce of work as I’d have lines of admirers begging to fetch the paper for me. BRILLIANT, is what I think my scheme was. BRILLIANT and completely GENIUS from all angles.

Until they ruined it all by asking a BABY-SITTER to SIT me. From the “Paw Care” association. Now, not only will I not be able to throw my party, but I will also be teased and humiliated about my “nanny” for all eternity.



3 thoughts on “The Hundred and Twelfth Moan

  1. MOCKINGJAY FOREVER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! says:

    KILLER post, B-Dawg.

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