September 25, 2005

The Woman and I had a conversation last night. She was sitting at her desk, looking at the computer, and I was sitting on the bed, trying to get her to get off her butt and let me have it for a while. She barely turned her head to look at me and said, "According to everything I've been reading, we need to put you on a low fat diet for your pancreas."

Excuse me? I don't think so. I am notgiving up my Stinky Goodness!

"If we didn't have to give you your meds, we could do away with the wet food..."

And I can gnaw your eyeballs out while you sleep, too...

"And we should reduce your stress levels."

Fine, get rid of Buddah.

"But you dont exactly have stress. You eat and sleep and poop."

Buddah is my source of stress!

"Moving is going to be stressful on you, isn't it?"

I won't like it, but there's bigger stress in my life!

"We keep thinking that having a bigger place will give you guys more room to play."

Fine. More room is nice. But who says I want to play...? I'm really just trying to kill the little monster.

Then she turned and lifted me onto her lap and rubbed the top of my head and said, "Buddah is kind of stressful on you, isn't he? I'm sorry... He'll get better as he gets older."

I'd prefer not to wait that long. Get rid of him.

"We'll figure something out."

Yeah. I'll believe that when I see it.

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