I have been woefully neglectful in mentioning G on this blog recently (other than to report in the context of other incidents that I walk him). He’s been giving me those puppy dog eyes a lot recently, probably begging me to let his peeps in the computer know that he’s still the Big Dog in the house and establishing his fiefdom over the neighborhood.
I had to write today, though, because G had himself a Great Day. What made it great? Cat poo. G has a terrible addiction to cat poo and we have cats with a terrible addiction of pooing outside of the litterbox. Which means that they keep him in good supply of tasty morsels. And, is G effective in ferreting out those little nuggets. Whenever he starts running in the house, nose to the ground, I know to follow him to try to at least get some out of his way.
Today, though, has to be the most poorific day ever. Cat poo in the laundry room and in Mr. X’s office (I told him that he shouldn’t keep that paper on the floor, the cats lurve to poo there). And, there was even poo outside. Our kitties aren’t allowed outside, but other cats are and one has apparently decided to start using a corner of our yard as its personal litterbox.
G was in heaven and I was fighting my gag reflex.