Ok, what is up with the brat? Does she think I'm some sort of stuffed toy that NEEDS to be messed with all the time?
Every morning it's the same routine: I'm sound asleep on the big, round cushy bed that I have decided is mine. (Note to the big, stupid dog: if you want to sleep on your bed then you have to get to it before I do--that's the rule.) At 5:30 AM that out of control pup leaps off mother's bed and stands on me, slobbers all over my head, neck and back, and wants to play "chase."
So here's what I have to say to the one called Della: KNOCK IT OFF MORON! IT'S 5:30 IN THE BLESSED A.M.--I DO NOT WANT TO PLAY!!
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