Thursday the 29th, Day 69:

The Honeymoon is over.

That's what Pa says, and I think I understand what he means...

Apparently, when humans get married, they're all in luuuurv, and they don't let themselves do yucky things (like drool on the pillow or snore, according to Marn, eh?) But after a while... they just let their hair down, and start being... /themselves/!

I'm very comfortable now, being myself!

This is not always a good thing.

For instance, last night, Pa and Dad went out to dinner, right? And Dad came home with five cookies for dessert. They were wrapped in a napkin and in the pocket of his coat. (His coat hangs right by his computer! I sit nearby there all the time!) You can see where this is going right? Yeah. I felt VERY comfortable sticking my nose in his coat pocket, pushing the napkin to one side, and slurp-smurgle-nibbling the cookies... half of them. (Not three of the five, oh no... half of ALL of them. Like one big cookie-sandwich! leave no cookie un-drooled apon!) Mine mine mine mine mine. If I lick it, it's mine right?

Then there's the whole TOY issue... see, the way *I* envision things, if I find something spiffy to chew on, or play with, then it's mine, right? I mean, share and share alike, isn't that how it is?

But the way Pa and Dad see it... only things they give to me as dog toys are okay to chew on... and this really stinks. I do LUuuurve my Booda-Hippo, mind you... but... Is there anything in this world as wonderful and joyously uplifting to chew on, than a REALLY sweaty sock? (Well, maybe a pair of sweaty briefs, but...) The thing is, they get all cranky when I play with those lucious, yummy things...

Go figure.

Yesterday, I thought I found the best toy in the whole world. I found Dad's SHOE... I don't understand, but just as I was starting to get it REALLY drooly, he YELPED, and took it away! Bah. He takes away ALL the good stuff. And there for a minute, I thought I'd found doggie heaven. *sigh*

Humans make NO sense...

Big Bertha