While I was out...

Have you ever seen that decorating show where someone thinks they are going away to visit their sister or something, but really while they're gone an interior designer and a carpenter and a TV crew show up at their house to help their totally clueless significant other redecorate their room? Oh, come on, don't try to tell me you never watch that trash, I know you've seen it. Anyway, IT HAPPENED TO ME!!! Minus the TV cameras--they must have been filming some other show that day. I am not even joking--here's what happened. My chauffeur (Mom) dropped me off at the salon for my grooming appointment. No worries, I'm even cuter than before, except for one unfortunate feature of my new haircut, which I will photograph for you this evening, that makes me bear a startling resemblance to one Mr. Ambrose Burnside.

Anyway, things only started to get exciting when we got home. I walked in the door, and it was the big reveal! My crate was still there (thank goodness!), but everything else was different. All the furniture was moved around, even the carpet I had worked so hard to shred to pieces was gone! At first, I was a little taken aback. Where were all my toys? Would I still have a runway to use for my Risky Business moves? How could Mom and Mama do this without consulting me, the fashion expert?

Then, I calmed down, examined the whole room, gave everything a sniff-down, and ascertained the location of all my toys. Everything was present and accounted for, and the move even made my runway a teeny bit longer for extra sliding distance. Indeed, I had even more floor space around my crate, and to make me feel at home, the moms had gotten me a replacement toy for my dear departed lamb. (Oh, yes, just as the Freds have left us, so the beloved lamb, which I had slept with every night since my arrival in the People's Republic, went on to wherever good toys go when they die.) This toy says, "Toughies" on it, "Tough rating-7 out of 10," (one being as flimsy as a sock, 10 being as indestructible as the side of the bathtub) but I don't want to get my hopes up that it will last for very long.

In any case, everything was fine, and we even got to stop at the dog park, where I met a Beagle named Edgar who is the only dog I've met who comes close to matching my keep-away skills. Edgar, if you're out there, you're da bomb. I'll meet you at the park this Saturday morning. And bring your own stick, you mooch!

Now, I must turn my attentions to preparing for the Passover feast at Grandmas. My cousin, Winston, is technically the youngest, and says he's going to do it, but I'm going to prepare for the four questions just in case he can't put his matzo where his mouth is. I'm also planning a dramatic recitation of Dayenu, complete with costumes, props and choreography by yours truly. If only I had been given one sock to chew...Dayenu!...