  Hey howdy hey! Well, it's Tuesday again. It started well, considering I turned off my alarm and slept until 7:30. Then again, I seem to be doing that a lot lately, so I got to work at regular time. I think Garry just accepts that I'm not a morning person and goes with it. I want to play hooky. No reason. Just sounds like a good idea. I took my neighbor's dogs out for the last time last night. I have never had an experience that has opened my eyes like that before. I'm such a cat person it's not even funny.
For instance, cats tend not to poop in the house. Well, outside the litter box, anyway. Not a day went by this last week that I didn't have to clean dog poo out of her bedroom. Also, you don't have to take cats for walks outside. In fact, even if you had a harness and leash, they feel it is beneath them and will not walk. The dogs live for walks and really enjoyed pulling the right side of my body completely out of whack. Not very big animals, but they are really strong when they decide they want to go somewhere. I don't think a day went by that they didn't almost pull me off my feet and onto my face. I no longer have any qualms about yanking on leashes to get them to stop pulling. If you don't, you fall down. Continuing, cats want affection on their own terms. They don't jump on you when you walk in the door and they don't really mind if you're gone for a couple of days, just as long as they have food and water enough to get them through.
Dogs need constant attention, and if they don't get it, they might just chew a hole in your bed and poop all over the carpet in your room to prove a point. Katheryn has an 8-inch hole in her mattress, but I cleaned up all of the piles of poop that were deposited in her bedroom before 7 last night. Anything after that is her problem. Tonight, I'm going home and sitting in my chair, petting any kitten that crawls into my lap, and I'm not doing a thing. It's going to be lovely. No more dogs for me. And I think one of the morals of this story is that if you're going to be gone for more than a day or two, board your dogs. Don't count on your flakey gay friend to look in on them because he's just going to flake out (which is why he's known as your flakey gay friend) on you in favor of packing up his entired life and moving to Washington, D.C. to live with his on-again/off-again boyfriend, leaving your neighbor to look after your pets.
While she did volunteer to take care of the dogs, you should know that, as a cat person, she had no idea what she was really getting herself into. Especially about the poop. Don't get me wrong. They are good dogs and we had our moments of fun and happiness, but it's going to take a while for my back and right shoulder to feel normal again.
I'm wondering how hard a 35 pound dog can really pull, because I felt like I was trying to hold on to one of those little cars the Shriners ride around in. Add to that another dog, probably closer to 40 pounds, and you've got me almost running. I don't run, so you can imagine my joy. Ah, well, it builds character, right? It'll put hair on my chest? Wait, no, that's mustard... Something like that, anyway... 
