Cold, Cold, Cold!

It has been VERY cold here in Indiana recently. Now, I've got a fur coat, so I don't mind a little cold every now and then, but it has gotten absurd. There should not be minus signs in front of the temperature, ever! And, as it's Fahrenheit, you know it's cold when there is a minus sign!

You'd think that, because it's so darn cold here, that Sarah would be happy to sit under the blankets in bed, or wrapped up in a Snuggie on the couch. But no, of course she isn't. Nope, she had to find something to dress me up in, as if the fur coat is not enough in her mind.

She has put me in the scarf before, but the hat is new. Frankly, I would prefer not having to deal with either.

Now, I usually enjoy going to Wisconsin, but it is MUCH colder there than where I live. So I would be perfectly happy to chill here in Terre Haute. However, Sarah is never content to leave well enough alone, so of course she is planning to take me to Wisconsin next week. I wish she would make plans to take me somewhere warm instead. I'm sure my grandparents would understand.

Dog As Dog

Sarah has truly outdone herself. As you may know, last Friday was Dress Up Your Pet Day (whoever invented that is a cruel, cruel, person. Unless, of course, they intended the day to apply to cats only. In which case, this person is a national hero). Lucky for me, Sarah was in Wisconsin, so I avoided it. Or, at least, I thought that I had avoided it.

Turns out, I was wrong. Sarah decided to make up for missing the day this morning.

Yes, Sarah dressed me, a dog, in a dog mask. It makes no sense. I really should stop even trying to make sense out of what she does.

Sarah seems to have interpreted "Dress Up Your Pet Day" as "Dress Your Pet Up as a Pet Day," because I cannot fathom any other possible explanation for why she would want a dog to wear a dog mask. I guess I should be thankful that she didn't find a cat mask for me. Although it would have made more sense, it would have been that much more humiliating.

This Is a Test

So, my cousin Izzy hurt her paw over the weekend (she cut her pad), so today she had to go to the vet to get it checked out. I hope she gets well soon, both because she's my awesome cousin, and because this is what happens to me when she hurts her paw:

Do you see that bandage on my leg? I'm not even hurt. I feel this is an insult to dogs who actually are hurt. And I know for a fact that's not even the leg that Izzy hurt.

Seriously, Sarah, do you somehow think this will make Izzy feel better? I mean, yes, she might laugh her butt off when she sees this picture of me, but it's definitely not going to actually heal her.

A close-up view. As you can see, I better not get hurt, because Sarah sucks at putting on bandages.

Anyway, Izzy, get well soon, if only because I have a sneaking suspicion Sarah might buy me an Elizabethan collar. You know, "just for fun."

Spa Day

So, yesterday, Sarah went out and got a haircut. Needless to say, it has not improved her appearance in the slightest, nor will it help her attract a guy so that she can torture someone other than me for a change. Unfortunately, this trip to the salon inspired Sarah to dress me in spa attire.

It's Sarah's robe and therefore doesn't fit. At all. However, it does make me look less fat than the too-tight shirts, so there's that.

Of course, dressing me up in spa attire did not result in any spa treatments for me, like a nice massage. Nope, I just got the same old crap from Sarah as everyday.

I like to believe that by wearing this mask over my eyes, I can hide from future humiliation.

I guess I should be thankful that her haircut didn't inspire her to get me a haircut, because I know that would turn out poorly. Still, I wish she would do something for once that didn't end in humiliation for me.

Christmas, Part 3 (The End)

So, when I woke up Christmas morning, there was a bit of panic on my part. You see, all of the stockings had been taken down and filled with goodies, EXCEPT MINE! This was cause for panic.

You can tell Santa has been to my grandparents' house by the nearly empty glass of milk and the partially eaten cookies. And yet, there my stocking is, all alone and unfilled. Horrible!

Christmas was turning out terrible. But then, things started looking up. You see, it turns out that even though there was nothing in my stocking, there were gifts for me! Here's my first (yup, first!) bag of them.

After the whole stocking debacle, you would be sticking your head in the bag like this, too. 

Santa did come for me! I should never have doubted the cuteness to attract him my way. And, unlike Sarah would have done, Santa brought me ZERO items of clothing. Santa rocks!

There were three big bags of stuff for me. Unfortunately, he failed to bring me the number one item on my list: a new owner. Well, there's always next year.