Although, somehow Guy and Girl missed that message. This morning, Guy went to school, and Girl cleaned the apartment top to bottom. She first picked up all of the boxes that gifts from her friends for her and Guys engagement came in. Then she did some laundry. THEN the fun began. She vacuumed. She KNOWS that I hate it. I can't explain why, but that darn thing is so loud!! And it comes straight at my dog bed!! Since my dog bed is against the wall and the back of the couch, I usually jump like a deer over the couch to escape the vacuum coming at me in my bed. But then, it ALWAYS finds me on the other side of the couch, and I have to jump back over to my bed. Girl does not love it when I get on the couch. And honestly, this is the only time that my paws touch the couch cushions. She must know that I only get on the couch out of desperation, because she has stopped screaming "BEAUTY!!!! NO!!!" over the roar of the vacuum every time I leap to the couch and back to my bed.
After vacuuming, came the cleaning of the bathroom. Girl never can seem to get all of my dog hair off of the floor, and I think that she speaks of shaving me in hopes that it will solve the "labrador hair" problem. (what problem?!)
Guy got home shortly after Girl finished with the bathroom, and they went on a run. Thank God they didn't try to drag me. I just stop moving my legs and basically act as a kind of resistance training for whoever has a hold of my leash. It was entirely too hot for a black lab to be outside today.
After the run, though, Guy and Girl decided to ride their bikes. They went down to the Lincoln Memorial and then swung by the store to get cheese, bread, meats, and olives for dinner. I got some cheese, so we all won. Those 2 really need to take a lesson from me sometime....who needs all of that movement on a Sunday?!
Girl is about to take me to pee. Happy Sunday and FATHERS DAY!
Tail Wag,
Beauty
Lucky for you, we don't vacuum on Sundays. Somebody swings by on Thursdays to vacuum, but we are lounging in the sun by the little waterfall, except when we run over and bark at the dumb dog next door. That bonehead Roscoe sneaks over and steals his toys and bones. Then he trots up and down the fence line taunting him.
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