Here's the thing, you guys. I mean, I'm a dog who enjoys a life of leisure. Sure, I like to go for walks, and I like to go for car rides to the bank and stuff, and once or twice or year I go on a big vacation trip. But my day to day life is pretty relaxed.
I mean, I like to get up, enjoy my morning coffee. . .
. . .and relax on the couch.
I eat treats and I bark at kids who walk past the house. The most exciting part of my day is usually when my loathed enemy, the mailman, comes by and shoves stuff through the door. I hate that guy. And he knows it, believe me! I have a scary bark, and I will bite him so hard when I meet him. Hear that, mailman? Hear that?
Okay, so, anyway. There's something else you should know. I'm an only dog. I mean, maybe there was a time when I would have liked a dog brother (or moose brother), but I'm too old, too set in my ways for that now. So you can imagine my angst when Mom came home Friday afternoon telling me to get ready for my new brother.
"Oh, Christ," I thought to myself. "But maybe it's Reilly? Shoot, even Fletcher could grow on me after a while."
But no. Meet my new "brother."
If there's one thing I hate more than the mailman, it's the vacuum cleaner. So loud! So scary! What an asshole, undoing everything I've worked so hard to establish (read: covering the house in my fur, making more and more Mitches)!
And as though that weren't bad enough, all weekend it was like Mom loved my new vacuum brother more than she loved me. She vacuumed and vacuumed, she cleaned the whole house two times over. Oh, and vacuum brother just kept rubbing it in how he was Mom's favorite. And he'd retract his cord all fast just to scare me. I hate that vacuum. I barked at him and told him so.
I didn't get to do much relaxing on Saturday, because I had to follow my mom (and new stupid "brother") around the house, barking at my brother.
Fortunately, though, all that bonding time between mom and my new brother tired her out, and today she spent most of the afternoon lying on the couch with me, the favorite son. And where was vacuum brother, you ask? In the closet, where he belongs.
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