My Hard Life

I am dreaming and suddenly the sound of a fire engine siren interrupts, but it is not a fire engine. I open my eyes and there is the face of my dog, six inches from mine, and he's whining to go out. It's time for my first chore of the day, walking Chandler around the block. During his walk, Chandler has tried to attack two spandex clad guys on bicycles, one school bus, and a speed-walking lady who just might have pooped her pants when Chandler charged crazily at her, until he hit the end of the leash.

After dog walking, the next chore on my list is to feed the cats, and then scoop out their litter box. I guess the cats need to pass the food through their systems for nourishment, but from what I see of the stuff that I scoop out of the can, it could just as easily be dumped directly into the litter box. It looks and smells the same as what's in there. After cleaning the cat box, if Mark hasn't done something to piss me off, I will wash my hands and make him his breakfast. If he has pissed me off, I will just make him his breakfast.

This is just the first couple of hours of my day. I still have more cat feedings, dog walkings, and a blog to write. I have a busy, busy day ahead.  But I can't think about that now. I'm pooped, and I have to go take a nap. I'll be able to get a few winks in before I hear that whining again. I just hope Mark doesn't start too soon.