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First my beloved Disney Princess blanket from Marky, and now the Hello Kitty plush toy Little AK gave me for my birthday.  What’s next, my laptop?  

PRICELESS!

Maddie showed up this morning with baked goods and giant latte for me. Rather than do anything productive we settled in on the couch and caught up on some TV. The worst part was my dog got Maddie cuddle time this week, not me! Bitches.

I guess I’m not the only one at my house who feels their life spinning out of control:

Daisy has a bed on the floor and a dirty laundry pile to sleep on, yet I still woke up to this today:
She is exactly like a boyfriend; She snores loudly, farts in her sleep and steals the good pillow.

“Al Gore is clueless, Daisy’s ass is the leading cause of global warming.”

After which, I’m sure he went straight home and starting researching on the internet how dog farts affect climate change.

Thank you to everyone for all the emails and comments checking up on Daisy! She’s doing much better. I know this because she ate salad when I accidentally dropped some on the floor yesterday.

She’s still taking medications which are re-training her blood to clot. I admit this had me slightly worried at first– I’ve never been able to train her to rollover, much less something so difficult. Puggy is still slightly lethargic, but this is easily explained by the fact she’s following my lead. After all, it is the Lord’s day, which in my house means weekend drinking recovery.

Last night I heard Daisy go upstairs. I went up a few minutes later and couldn’t find her. I walked back down the stairs and looked around. Nothing. I started to panic thinking what if she slipped out of the house and I hadn’t noticed. Frantic, I ran back upstairs one last time to look around before going out to scour the neighborhood. Suddenly the giant pile of laundry on my floor shifted. She raised her head long enough to give me evil skank eye for disturbing her slumber and laid back down and went to sleep. Stubborn little creature refused to the rest of the night. Perhaps I should consider doing laundry soon?

My singing & dancing Bill Clinton doll lives atop my fridge, next to Daisy’s treat jar. The only time Bill dances these days is when I’m getting Daisy a treat and bump him.

The other day someone was over and pushed the button to see the song & dance routine. Daisy, who was asleep upstairs, nearly tumbled down the stairs rushing to get down. She sat in the kitchen and begged and begged until she was rewarded with a treat. My democrat minded pug doesn’t need a bell to stimulate conditioned response. She needs a Clinton –preferably Bill, as Hillary doesn’t seem like much of a dancer.