The Way I Like My Ears Rubbed

Guess what?!? When the car jolted to a stop and I woke up, we weren’t at Evil Steve and Wicked Wanda’s House of Pain at all. We were at Auntie Cynthia’s! My superb sense of direction must have gotten confused or perhaps I went to sleep for a moment longer than I thought when they made a few unauthorized turns and random lane changes. (The LA traffic seems to make them do irrational things behind the wheel.) I was really off because Auntie Cynthia lives in a dazzling house on the beach in Laguna and not anywhere at all near the coven of the Terror Twins. Since The Lady and The Man packed up all my worldly possessions, I guess I’m going to live with Auntie Cynthia now, which is OK. I’ll miss My People, but Auntie Cynthia is lots of fun and makes really spectacular squeaky noises. I hope My People tell her how I like my dry kibble mixed up with a few spoonfuls Puppy Plate, and how I like to jump all over the furniture when I play with my Rakunk. (Hummm… she has an awful lot of white furniture.) I guess she’ll eventually figure out that I need one delicious freeze dried dehydrated Chicken Drop at bedtime to convince me to get into my crate (CAGE!) and go to sleep. As soon as we opened the door, The Man set up my fence near the front steps and put down my pink blanky to cover the stone floor, which is nice since it was kind of cold on my puppy feet. It’s a good spot for me to hang out because I can bark at whomever is coming and going at the front door, I can see what is going on in the living room, and I can walk around the corner into the kitchen for a drink of water when ever I want. The Lady put my toys inside the fence with me, but mostly I just nap and wonder how long before they leave me forever. Do you think they will explain to Auntie Cynthia the way I like to have my ears rubbed? I am wondering if anyone will call me Bunny Rabbit anymore?