This is me, fresh from the salon. Those ladies at the Chatty K-9 know how to treat a man! They don't bother me with sissy bows, instead I got this bad-ass biker scarf. (No, it is absolutely not a neckerchief or an ascot.) I came home smelling all manly and natural...in other words, gross. I went looking for my bedding to get some of that good stink back on myself, only to find that Andrea had confiscated my stuff, mumbling something about the washing machine. She is so rude! So far the only retaliation I have been able to successfully achieve is waking her up two nights in a row at 1:30 to let me out. Seriously, I could've sent my laundry out to the cleaner with quicker results. A nasty clean smelling bed is better than no bed. So that right there goes on the unhappy chart - having my stuff messed with!
It also makes me unhappy when these people think they are funny. Obviously these are not the kinds of bones I find delightful.
She knows that putting any sort of clothing on my frame makes it virtually impossible for me to move. I mustered up all of the intimidation I could and gave her this look...
...you can be sure she took that silly thing off of me, pronto...as soon as she snapped some photos (to document how vicious I am) and stopped laughing (at a joke she earlier in the day I believe).
I am going to go look for a dirty tissue to chew on to cheer myself up.