is a really cool, caring vet and his warm, supple hands have this soothing, calming effect on me, even when he's probing and prodding me in all my most unmentionable areas. He's not quite as good as a top flight Korean Spa sponge bath lady, but almost...I digress. I was about to tell you about how my hopes for a fun day out for a ride in the car were dashed when I realized where we were headed. I should've been paying more attention as my parents were packing bags and bickering about the packing of the bags and about how late it was, that they were going through their semi-annual ritual known around here as Trip-a-Palooza. "Do you have the tickets?""Where's the phone?""I forgot to cancel the paper!""Is that your biggest problem right now?""What time are we supposed to leave?"... Aye, yai, yai. It's like this every time! The real issue for me is that when they go away, I get shipped off to jail. I get put in a kennel to spend my days surrounded by over-indulged, separation anxietized prima donnas who's idea of a good time is barking from the second they wake up till the moment they fall asleep, exhausted. Now, I'm not a barker. Never have been. But on occasion I have been known to let out an unexpected yelp or two. And, oh, to what effect! But these sad sacks just bark and bark, with no effect and seriously cut into my nap time. I know I shouldn't, but because I get so pissed at them, I sometimes needle them into hysteria by telling them that their families have moved to Arizona and are never coming back. "It happens all the time," I tell them. (I know it's wrong, but when I'm tired, I'm cranky. And when I'm cranky, watch out!) The place is called Best Friends
and it really isn't such a bad place, I guess. I always get back at my Mom and Dad a little by running up to the workers and following them off into the kennel without even looking back. I won't give them the satisfaction of that over-the-shoulder, "don't do this to me" forlorn look they so desperately need. They want to lock me up for the weekend, they're gonna have to suffer a little, too. Actually, it's not all that bad, really, and I always look forward to that bath I get right before they come to pick me up. Sleeping in a puddle of you own urine can be fun for a couple of days, but even a tough girl like me can appreciate coming home to her own comfy bed...I'll fill you in on their trip... after I catch up on my sleep.
