Here’s her dog house…that’s 3 bedrooms and 2 baths. She does not stay outside. Ever. During the summer, she sleeps on the floor. Wintertime, she’s in our bed. On MY side. Wench! And she must be lifted in and out as jumping isn’t so hot for her back. It’s Himself’s fault.
thorn in her side maid…
Easy livin’, right? I’d say so. And I’ve never met a canine with such a sensitive stomach. My poor laundry room will never be the same. I swear she plans it. “Let’s see, hmmm, it’s been seven whole days since Mom cleaned the laundry room. Can I get a cleanup in aisle 3, please?” I pity the sucker that pulls up that linoleum. Get your hazmat suit, hon!
Which leads us to Lulu’s chef…yes, I said chef because I’m currently cooking the dog her dinners because nothing is agreeing with her. White rice and ground beef. For a dog. Only in America.
You can’t tell me she doesn’t know what she’s doing!
Man’s best friend, my fat fanny!