Sometimes, I think FatBoy doesn't think I'm smart.

Yesterday, he returned from fetching the mail (I can't do that because the box is too high off the ground) and removed his long-sleeved shirt and draped it over my back. For the life of me, I don't know why he does that. I can't reach back there to remove it, and I ended up walking from one side of the house to the other until it slid off somewhere. He seemed to think this was funny.

He did a similar stunt a few days ago. After buying something at the drive-thru, he brought home French Fries for me! This is always a lot of fun -- they're tasty, and he only eats the smallest (crispy) ones in the container. But this time, he'd place one or two between my shoulder blades. Argh! I cannot figure out how to get to them! I tried grabbing them with my tongue, but it's not long enough. Next, I tried reaching from the left side, instead of the right. Still nothing. And there FatBoy sits, laughing and pointing at me.

I'll get him back. Some night when he's sleeping, I'll gnaw off one of his legs. That'll teach him to torment me.

When I finally get a driver's license and a car, I'm going to have vanity plates:

DOFUBO

get it -- Dog Food Bowl! Pretty cool, huh?

I hate having to sneak around behind FatBoy's back, but he's been grumpy the past few days. I don't think it has anything to do with me or the small dogs (with the long tails) .. he's just in one of Those Moods.

Last Saturday, my little friend Rambo left after some Giant Woman (well, okay, I'm only 24 inches tall, so everyone seems giant to me) came to get him. I gave the house a sniff-over when he left, and then decided to take a nap. I deserved it.

Rambo's been here over a week, and I think he'll be leaving soon. I overheard a message on FatBoy's answering machine, about "bringing him home", so ... it's probably just a matter of time.

This canine (I think someone said he's a Welch Corgi) gets away with murder. This morning, he decided to whiz (and whiz and whiz) on the black cat's litterbox; I guess he got a smell of the fecal matter inside and couldn't avoid contributing to the aroma. I heard FatBoy say a few choice words before grabbing the paper towels. At least Rambo had the courtesy of letting loose on a tile floor instead of the carpets .. this time.