Day Five Hundred

We had a way too cold day. I had to wear my Scotsman coat. I do not have to eat porridge when I wear my cosy Scotsman coat. It is only a coat. It is not me. 

Today is the Scots peoples day for their St. Andrew.  He is like St. Newton except he likes squeaky bagpipe music and porridge. And he does not make things fall onto the floor for dogs to eat. 

The Scots peoples should get a new Saint. Maybe one who brings nice peach pies. Niamh and Emmet love peach pies. It is known.

Emmet had a sick tummy and could not go to school this morning. I was worried. I went down stairs to take care of him. He is all right now. Zita took him this afternoon when he was all better.

This morning when the toasts machine made it's the toast are all ready noise there was no one in the kitchen. Zita was getting squeaky clean in the bath. I barked at the door. Zita told me to go get Craig. He did not listen.  We had to have cold toasts. 

It is hard being a dog. People are not as smart as they say. 

When Zita and Emmet were away this afternoon Craig and I had more toasts. Warm toasts. Ha.

We only played throw the green ball a little bit. The ball does not bounce so well when it is way too cold. Either do I. Oh well.  

We looked out the window at the snow machines. They are still way noisy. 

Niamh hates her phone. Oh well. 

Zita and her lady friends are going out for dinner tonight. I am not going. I think I will be in charge here again. They will not listen. They are not very good listeners. They just listen to each other. Not to me. Oh well. It is hard being a dog.