Baseball Season for Choppy

So, I have previously documented Sarah's love of football. However, she also loves baseball (I'm sure some of you who have been following this blog for awhile can see where this is going).

Terre Haute, the place where Sarah (a.k.a., Butthead Supreme) and I live, just got a baseball team called the Terre Haute Rex - it's basically college kids, who play baseball during the summer. Sadly, despite my previously expressed desire to run around a baseball field and enjoy its soft, sweet grass while I relieve myself, dogs are not allowed at the ballpark.

Now, if dogs were allowed at the ballpark, I would totally be a fan of the Terre Haute Rex. However, I'm not allowed there, so I'm pretty indifferent to the team. What I am not indifferent to is what Sarah has subjected me to as part of her desire to humiliate me in as many ways as possible.

Oh, don't worry. As if Sarah would stop at dressing me in a t-shirt. More to come.
Certainly not to my surprise, Sarah did not purchase herself a Terre Haute Rex t-shirt. Nope, she bought me a shirt instead. Upon getting home, she promptly dressed me up in said shirt.

However, that's not where she stopped. Oh no, of course that's not where she stopped.

A hat? Really, Sarah, at this point I wonder how you find such wonderful new ways to make me hate you on such a regular basis.
Do you know how I know that dogs are not meant to wear baseball caps? Because they cover up my ears, and I can't hear anything! While this has the bonus of giving me an excuse for not obeying Sarah's stupid rules (because I can't hear them), it still is unpleasant. It hurts my little ears!

Remember what I said in an earlier post about a hit man? It still applies.
You know what? This incident makes me fear for the next bit of clothing Sarah trots out. Thank goodness she's not a soccer fan. I can only imagine what sort of horrible things I would be forced to dress in because of the World Cup.