Wednesday, January 26, 2011

But my name is on it. . .

I spent a wonderful few days at my grandpa Steve and Michele's house up in Westminster while my mom and dad worked all weekend.  I got to play with my bunny and raccoon, ate peanut butter and krunchies out of my kong, tunneled under the covers in the middle of the night and kicked Michele out of bed, stole Poppy's toys, slept in Poppy's bed, and genuinely had a grand ol' time.  

When my mom and dad left for work this morning, they made a fatal mistake. They left my "overnight bag" out on the counter.  Yup, the bag with all of my goodies -- my toys, my food container, my empty kong, my stuffies, my leash and collar, and more importantly . . .
 the peanut butter jar for my kong. 
 Well, don't look at me.  The goose did it.  I swear.
 I'm sorry Mom, I really am.  But how was I supposed to know that I shouldn't eat it.  It was pretty clear that the jar was meant for me. 

Look, the lid clearly says:
"LAILA"

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Snoozing, snoring

At the end of a long day (and especially after a long hike), I love napping with my dad on the sofa . . .
  in the "nook" of his arm . . .
and sandwiched between my dad and the back of the sofa.

Friday, January 14, 2011

Santa, You're Late!

Santa, you were late.  And I was upset.
While I waited, I "borrowed" Mr. Santa stuffie from my mom to cuddle for a little bit.  His beard tickled my nose so *might* have shaken him a little bit.  Sorry grandmom.  I was a little upset.

On New Year's Eve, we went to visit my grandpa Steve and Michele.
My new bed from grandpa Steve and Michele.
They gave me a awesome, smushy, fluffy bed.  Things were looking up!

Then, a few days ago, the UPS man *finally* delivered the rest of my Christmas present!
Hellooooo, Mr. Hooter!  Squeak!  Squeak!  Squeak!
Santa brought a Hooter-owl and a huge bag of Vanilla-flavored rawhides.
 I squeaked Mr. Hooter for about 15 minutes until I killed both of his squeakers, and then I moved on to my vanilla rawhides.  I do love vanilla rawhides.

Hey, Mr. Santa, do you think you could come early next year?  I will accept presents once a week starting on September 1st.