Where are you Daddy?

OK, so they both just plopped me onto this Italian-style bed and left the room, when are they coming back? I’ve been waiting here for 5 minutes but no one has returned. I’m starting to feel super self-conscious with that Mother Mary and Child bust hanging on the wall above my head. I can deal with iconoclastic-Madonna-esque religious stuff but this bust seems to be hovering over me with an air of judgment and it’s making me feel like I have to pee. My tummy is grumbling and I need a snack. When they come back into the room I’ll make sure to run in circles on this bed to let them know. I don’t want to mess up this elegant bed spread but how else will I let them know that I’m hungry? I can try to jump off this bed but it’s too high. Who sleeps at this elevation? A Queen? I’m a Queen and I sleep comfortably on a donut bed that’s 6” off the ground! Snort, Snort, I hear movement in the other room, is that water running from a sink? Those two Daddies of mine are always in the bathroom looking in the mirror! Especially the tall one, he’s always picking at his face. I say leave that scruff on your face alone and come tend to your pug! I’m getting tired of waiting YAWN! I guess I have no choice. This is the burden of being a pet—always waiting!

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