A Note from Our Supreme Commander, Jack

Life is intolerably hectic around here! I have only been getting 20 hours of sleep a day, and I'm not sure how long I can survive on that sort of deprivation. But my leadership is required, and so I press on. Due to my superior intelligence and great cunning, I  manage to maintain some semblance of order in this  crazy kingdom of mine. 

Each morning I survey my dominion, assessing threats both internal and external. I loathe the presence of that canine infiltrator so I continually plot her demise. Sadly, she misinterprets my prowess as playfulness. Idiot.

My morning ritual is extremely taxing, resulting in the need for a little relaxation. I do struggle to to unwind--the stress in my life is impossible. Some days I can't even find a lap throne to occupy. 

Other times I am required to share my lap throne; a prospect that completely disgusts me. Doesn't that dog know I'm the boss? Everyone else seems to have figured it out. They feed me, they pet me, they clean up after me. Yes, the humans are adequate as servants. But Gemma needs to learn her place.

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The Tale of the Blue Balloon

All three of us saw it at the exact same time.

I was sitting in the armchair. David was standing at the edge of the room. Gemma came in from the hallway.

The limp blue balloon was on the carpet under the coffee table, and all three of us saw it at the exact same time.

I slowly started to get up, David lunged for it, but Gemma charged and got there first. She picked it up with her mouth and quickly ran under the foot stool. I grabbed for her from one side and David blocked her from scooting away, but it didn't matter. We were too late. She had already swallowed the balloon.

What did people do before the Internet?

Within minutes, David had googled "my dog ate a balloon" (file THAT under:Things I Hope I Never Have to Google). He learned more than he ever wanted to know about the digestive system of a canine. The long and short of it is this: we'll be examining excrement for the next 48 hours hoping that the blue balloon finds an exit strategy. Yes, I have the dog doo blues!

In the meantime, I'm reconsidering party decorations for David's birthday....

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