It is Sunday, and the two-leggers are aromatizing the kitchen with fried bacon, hash brown potatoes and eggs-over-easy. Apparently the hairless one forgot I was awake, because he didn't set a plate out for me. To remind him of my presence, I did my best to trip him as he was carrying the hot bacon grease to the sink.
He is so self-absorbed he didn't notice - no wonder he has troubled relationships with females of the species. Despite my efforts, he appeared to have forgotten my fondness for cauterized shreds of porcine flesh, denatured avian ova, and tubers of a close relative of deadly nightshade. So what if they give me gas, is that any reason to deny me the joy of a weekend brunch?
I have a fondness for peanut butter. The nice-smelling two-legger has a human friend who understands that and provides her with an endless supply of home-baked delicious peanut butter biscuits. They make me very happy, those female two-leggers. When I sit very still in the kitchen and give her my deep hypnotic stare, she is putty in my paws and is unable to resist my telepathic demand for treats. I tried it with the hairless one, he just harrumphs and says, "What are you staring at?" I don't know what she sees in him, seriously.
The less-hairless pup came over for breakfast and is now working on his noise-making stick. I think he calls it a Fender Jaguar electric guitar. I call it the thing which makes that note (high E#, the little two-legger calls it) which makes me howl like a wolf acourtin'. I really hope he doesn't do that this morning, I need a nap after thinking about all that food. Although it might get the cute two-legger to hand over more peanut butter snacks if she falls for my lupine charms. That, or the hairless one might just crate me. Oh no, he just plugged in the stick! Looks like we'll find out soon. Stay tuned.
