At least I'm not writing about cats. Yet.

NaBloPoMo is bringing out the best in my good friend Sarah. I especially enjoyed the post narrated by her cat:



Oh, shit. Is that Other One trying to ENTER THE BEDROOM? She'll never learn. Cat's gonna make me flex. I'll just hide over here...wait for it... BAT BAT BAT! Feel the sting of my paw! You wanna scream about it? Go ahead. Yowl and scream all you want. Music to my ears.



Come on. That there is comedy gold.

In other news, my dog puked about an inch from my face. I was sleeping. It was 4 a.m. He looked as surprised as I felt.

I am sure Cookie would never have done this to me.

Yeah, I'm talking about dogs again. This is what happens when you post every day. And there is NOTHING ELSE GOING ON IN YOUR LIFE WHATSOEVER. Wow, look at those all caps! Wasn't that a strong statement!

Oh, and the dog? Puking because he keeps eating the cat food. Kitten victuals are irresistible to dogs. Even after they come back up.

I'm sorry.

Anyway, after changing the sheets, Scott and I proceeded to fight about which side of the bed the puke was on, as if it was somehow an insult directed at one of us, and the one whose side of the bed it puddled toward was the offended party. This is the kind of asinine argument one has at 4 a.m.

The puke was in the dead center of the bed, by the way. Charlie was playing fair.

At least it seems that Scott now sees my point about getting the dog off the damn bed, an initiative I have been pursuing since forever. At some point in the night, every night, Charlie scoots under the covers and steee-retches until his paws all converge into one point, a point that he then thrusts directly between my butt cheeks. Scott finds this adorable, because it never happens to him.

So maybe I'll get a full night's sleep without being violated by an animal. (That means you, Scott! HAA HAAAAAA! Sigh.) And it just took a little doggy barf to do it! Ta-da!