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2005-08-12 - 9:07 p.m.

I hear the alarm so I stumble out of bed and wash my face. As I walk back towards the bed Mr. Midnite is sitting in the middle of the floor with an accusatory look on his face. He wants to know, Are you going back to bed or are you going to your office? He wants to be where the action is, and this morning he hasn't noticed that I too would like to know where the action is.

He decides I'm getting up for real and plunks himself down blocking the hallway. I've sort of dressed, up and mulgating slowly to the office, only to find the way blocked by a chipper looking but big, fat dog, actually sitting up in front of me.

"Who's your Daddy? big boy, who's your Daddy?" His tail thumps hard on the wall. "You're my Daddy" he seems to say. "Where's my breakfast, Daddy?"

I sidetrack to the garage and fill his bowl with multi-colored chunks of something. Seeing the look on his face and his eyes saying, "I thought you were my Daddy?" I detour to the fridge and grab last nights left over steak, maybe 8 ounces. Whack, whack, whack goes the tail again, and suddenly I'm unnoticed as he scarfs down the steak.

I pour my coffee and reheat it a bit in the microwave. Just time to take it out and put it down when the sound of claw tapping on glass comes from the back door. "OK, OK, Big Boy, I'll let you out!"

I must be moving slowly as I just sit down and hear the insistant rap from the door. " It's hot out here, Daddy, let me in!"

And so goes the morning.....

Some people say baling wire and duct tape fix anything....

I think that's true so I duct tape a sock on Midnite's foot since he seems to think his foot tastes better than food or something. He's back at it again, chewing his foot. This starts the third year of foot munching! I get so tired of him wearing his cone. Cone head, Cone head, bad doggie! No wonder he has poor self esteem! Maybe I'll get a "Soft-E-Collar, which will turn your pet from Queen Elizabeth I into Bozo the Clown." so says the advertisement.

This very minute he's cowering behind my office chair, too close for me to roll around. (You know how it is when you get that "I got to roll urge". Failure to roll is bad karma. but I digress)

No it's not because he's devoted to me, It's because he's terrified of the vacuum cleaner and he thinks I'll protect him. Hah! No way doggie, you won't let me roll!

I'm going now, have a nice nice night! Who's your Daddy anyway?! Curiouoso* wants to know.


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