Monday, September 7, 2009

Day Three

Labor Day 2009. Oxford, Traveller, and Emmy arise at 8:30 AM. This is later than the dogs wished and earlier than Emmy wished. Such is life.

: Good thing Emmy let us out in the middle of the night, or I would have burst. I gotta go again. Wake her like you did yesterday.

Traveller: Head on the bed, soulful look . . . she's up! I like it when she gives us treats first thing in the morning.

Oxford: Mmmph. Chewy.

Traveller: Mmmph. Did I tell you Emmy let me lick her toes?

Oxford: Emmy let me lick her oatmeal bowl.

Traveller: She did?????

Oxford: No, I just wanted to make you jealous. Hey, she's opening her suitcase. Maybe Emmy's leaving.

Traveller: I don't want Emmy to leave. Especially since she stopped taking so many pictures.

Oxford: She probably has all the pictures she needs. Let's face it, we do the same stuff every day. Get up, do our thing in the yard, eat . . .

Traveller: . . . snooze, chew on a bone, look out the front door, play Pirates . . .

Oxford: . . . aggravate the Schnauzer, ruin Mom's mulch, eat, play with The Kid, walk with Dad, eat, and conk out on the dog beds. Every day is pretty much the same.

Traveller: Every day is not the same. You left out tummy rubs.

Oxford: And tummy rubs.

Traveller: Oxford, you're my best friend.

Oxford: You're mine, too, buddy.

Traveller: I love you, man.

Oxford: Hey, don't go all Lassie on me. Remember, we're guys. Want to play "Pirates?"

Traveller: Catch me if you can! Arrrrgh!