Everybody went out for dinner. When they came home Craig forgot to give me my own dinner. He did not remember until it was bed time. Too bad for me.
Zita said it is very hard to get good helpers nowadays. It is true. Maybe we should look for a new one. Craig is very old. Like Uncle Bill. Zita is not old. Or Emmet. Or Niamh. Or me. Just Craig. It is known.
We all slept in. It is way too quiet in our house. When Niamh is not here. She is still at the house in the scary woods. Where the wolves hide behind the way big trees. Oh dear.
Zita and I went for a nice walk. It is a nice quiet Sunday. No toasts. Too bad for me.
Zita is inside the bath tub. Talking old stuff off and putting new sticky stuff on. It is very messy. I can not help.
I just lay on the floor. Outside the bath tub room. And watch. I am a good watcher.
Craig and Zita and even my friend Emmet are going to the not very expensive breakfasts store to look for a new sofa for the den. Maybe one not for dogs. Even nice dogs like me. Oh dear. Oh dear.
Where would I watch the television. How would I look out on my beautiful garden. And scare the nasty squirrels away. They will eat all our tasty green beans. Oh dear. Too bad for us.
A not for dogs sofa would be a bad idea. It is known.
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