Life with Pup

Favre Doing the Al Bundy

Pup is finally done with 18 hour work days and is now running around Chez Emerson in his typical fashion – wrecking havoc everywhere he goes.

It’s good to have him back, but now that I’m working for the first time in our short marriage he’s a little bit spoiled and I’m having to train him in on how to clear a table, how to pick up his clothes, and how to own his free time. He’s not used to free time poor darlin’.

Here is a sprinkling of what Life with Pup is like now that he’s free.

Sweetie . . . do you suppose a rabbit really likes carrots?

Do you think Calvin likes it when I haggle him?

Did you know that it's hotter in the city than in the country?

Dollink . . . Dollink . . .

Look at my tiny butt. Don't you think my butt is tiny?

Do you think Calvin eats kleenex so he doesn't have to wipe his ass?

Do you think Calvin gets mad because I’m taller than him?

Do you think Calvin minds when I turn my back on him?

Look Sweetie, George is humping me. So I’m kicking him in his faux-nuts. He likes it!

You should blog about how clean Calvin’s little balloon-knot is. [To which I replied, “Get your own blog.”]

Let me see the chimichunga.

Feel this . . . I think there is something wrong with it. It's all hard.

Honey, show me Felix. Come on.

No matter how many spankings you get in a day, you need more.

And apparently he has missed his wiener, because it’s all about the wiener lately. Well, strike that, because isn’t it all about the wiener all the time? Do I see a show of hands?

So, Pup sits around like Al Bundy. Can’t let that thing out of his sight. Or out of his hand.

He places his wiener on the back of my desk chair, places his wiener on my neck, places it on my back.

We will be in the office, having a normal conversation. I turn to look at him. His wiener is out. He has expectant look on his face.

Walks through the house, stops to shake it at George. Stops to shake it at Calvin.

Says, “Hey, why don’t they shake their wieners at me?

His wiener looks delighted to be out and about once again I have to say.

Smooches my Pup, I missed you.