Day Six Hundred and Six

It is a messy day. The snow is all melting. We have the big tubs out to catch all the too much water. I like to drink the water.  It is nice and cold. But I get my head all wet and have to stay in the kitchen until I get all dry. Oh well.

I had a nice walk. And played in the allways away people's garden. To get my feet all clean. Then I had a little bath.

Craig slept in. We did not have our toasts until way too late.  Oh well. We had peanut butter sandwiches for lunch. I helped. 

Niamh and Zita and Emily and Cara have gone off to the not so expensive breakfast store. To find a new bed for Niamh. And to have hot dogs. That is a silly name. It is a lie.  They are not dogs at all. People are silly. They believe lies. Dogs know the all everywhere truths. It is known.

I lost my Red Ball. We looked everywhere. Except under the bed. Craig cannot get under the bed. Oh dear. I know it is under the bed. Craig can not see it. He is old.

Craig went in the den to read his book. I sat and cried and cried. He looked again. And found it. Craig got the big grabber. And got my Red Ball. It was under the bed. Ha. I was right. We played throw the Red Ball.  That is good.

Craig fixed my scary kitchen gate. So it will not fall on me. That is good. 

Zita and I decided not to go on a little walk. It is too all wet. I am tired of being a soggy dog. My kitchen bed is all comfy. And soft. Except where I chew it.  Oh well. 

Zita was talking to her sister in Ireland this morning. It is nearly pretend to be Irish day. I am not Irish. Zita and Emmet and Niamh are Irish. Craig is a pretend Scotsman. That is why he has to eat porridge. Too bad for him. Ha