So it's a Tuesday night in my little town and my dog is making those weird heaves that make it look like he is about to throw up on my bed. I think it's just a hairball. Mickey is actually part cat. I'm pretty sure. He has many cat tendencies. He mews. He bats things with his paws and he gets hairballs. I don't know what the hell was going on in that pet store, but I love him just the same.
Well, except for when he "accidentally" poops in the kids playroom. He does that sometimes. It irritates the hell out of me. And then when he knows I am going to see it he waits outside the door for me to see it and say, "Bad dog. Outside." But before I can even get the, "Outside" out he runs for the door. I love him to pieces though. I like to pick him up and pretend (only for a millisecond, because EVERYONE knows I don't like 'em) that he's a baby. He likes it (kinda, not really) but so what? He poops in the playroom for God sake!
And then there's Lucy. Lucy who has cost us a fortune in vet bills because she might or might not have gotten her tail caught in the door and cause her metabolism is that which super models are made of. Meaning the vet can't understand why although she eats like a horse she still loses weight. Um, come look at my yard before the lawn guy gets here. Then you'll know why. Right Jen? You know what I'm talking about. Finger to nose.
Why are you wondering is the title of this post called Twilight the movie? I'm going to be honest with you. I don't know. I started it a while ago and I must have had something to say about that but since then my phone has rang, I have talked to Chase, I have listened to some music, read some e mail, played facebook, watched Saige do handstands, made lunches, folded laundry, brushed my teeth, answered e mail and cleaned up Mickey's poop. For the life of me, I don't remember what it was I was going to say about that. Hmmm....