At first, this was shunned. "No way" I proclaimed.
"I'm serious. We have to lay down some ground rules. Nothing with more than two legs on the furniture. This means you bub."
I used force. I pleaded. I begged. I was stern. I was friendly.
I felt I represented the pack leader fully.
As long as the pack leader is a camera-wielding,
cold wet nose loving,
fuzzy furry bundled of snugglewugglysweetiepie kissing
person who makes the rules around the house...
...and has decided to make a momentary exception to the rule.
After all, one does deserve a little tlc after spending nearly an entire
year on a cement floor with the cold hard metal bars for a shoulder to lean on,
watching his possibilities flow in and out like the tide....
Just this once.
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