Saturdays with Sir Poops-A-Lot: Save the Socks and Butt Huffing

Friday morning, yesterday, began on a good note. Mummsy announced that the hair ball and I would be going for a car ride. Oh, the joy. So much glee and happiness. We danced around the kitchen at first. After, we sat by the tuggers she connects to our necklaces and waited for her to come down the stairs.

When she did, she looked like she had on her work apparel. This made me sad because I knew she’d be taking us some where and not with her for the day. Not long after she put us in the car, the hair ball cried, “She’s taking us to the room filled with many prisons and watery torture devices.” He wailed the whole way there, repeating himself over and over. He wouldn’t shut up.

I, on the other hand, opted to think positive about the trip. I watched the trees go by and the cars, too. Delightful, I tell you, delightful. Swarms of birds flew across the blue sky. Different smells had my sniffer going. It was great until mummsy made a certain turn. The hair ball was right.

Our beautiful mummsy left us with these two wicked looking blondes. They did their best to entice us with treats, peanut butter ones, my favorite. But, I refused, turning my nose up at them. My nails clung to the tile but they dragged me to the torture room anyway. “There’s no way I’ll give in. No. Not me. I refuse to cooperate with waterboarding. Refuse, I tell you.”

They ignored me.

Hair ball accepted the treats. He even climbed into one of the blonde’s arms. “Okay,” he said. Little traitor. He’ll do anything for a cookie.

Anyway, when we arrived home, I immediately ran upstairs to No-No’s room. I needed to roll in my sock pile but they were gone. Oh, no! They were no where to be found. The piles of clothing gone. The all-you-can-eat buffet gone. All of it gone.

Daddy-o stood in the hallway with a black garbage bag and announced, “No-No, there’s no reason why you can’t keep your room clean. Don’t know what’s so hard about it. For a twenty-one year old adult, you act like a two year old.”

I walked over to him and stood at his feet. “I’ll take the bag. I’ll keep it clean.”

He ignored me accept to pet my head.

No-No stared at her computer and muttered something under breath. Probably the F-bomb. That’s what mummsy calls them.

It was truly a sad day.  A sad, sad day indeed,which leaves to my next issue. What is work? Mummsy says she goes so we can have food, toys, and keep our house. I don’t understand. Are there mean people out there that want to take these precious things from us? Is work more like fighting with others? That sounds more like war to me. She should consider butt huffing. That might solve her problems. It works for me, distinguishing foe from friend.

Well, for now I need to go. Mummsy will be up soon.

Very truly yours,

Sir Poops-A-Lot

P.S. I’m starting a campaign to Save the Socks!!!

P.S.S. I’m also considering opening up a training seminar on the techniques for butt huffing.