PeaceBang

We Had a Dog Party And She Wasn’t Invited: Almost Friday Cat Blogging

My friend just came over with her little dog, Shelby, so I had to shut Miss Princess up in my bedroom because she doesn’t like the dogs.
Now that my pal and Shelby are gone, Ermengarde is sniffing around everywhere and crying in a deeply betrayed manner. I’m acting very innocent like “What? Everything’s normal as pie! You’re not smelling a dog, it’s all in your imagination!”

It’s like when your parents went out of town for the weekend and you had a wild party and they came home and were like, “How did this cigarette burn get on the living room couch cushions, young lady?” and you’d say, “I think one of Dad’s friends did that during the Superbowl.” And then they’d say, “Uh-HUH. How about the beer bottles in the garage?” and you’d go, “It’s part of a recycling project I’m working on at school.”

To be honest with you, there is no way I could have ever gotten away with lying to my parents this way. For one thing, my mom has a fantastic honesty detector and would just call me a lying ingrate to my face and for another, my father would have murdered me. By that I mean that the sheer force of his bellowing could strike a person dead. And it’s not me who had the big illegal party in 1981 when Mom and Dad went to California anyway, KAREN MINNETTE BANG.THAT WAS TOI, WASN’T IT?

But that’s how I feel when I sneak a dog into the house past Ermengarde. That was a cute little dog, too. I love that she “fetched” a rain stick from the parlor and brought it to us.

I’m almost done with my sermon and this is what we call sheer procrastination and not going to the gym. Was that fun for you, too? I could keep going, you know…