*sigh*
My even-more-sainted-than-my-sainted-Mother Gramma just left. She visits from time to time to stroke my silken fur, whisper sweet nothings in my flying nun ears, and generally make this life paradise on earth. Alas, she has departed.
Gramma makes my mom look like a dog owner who would chain one to a camper. She is just that awesome. I look forward to her visits as the American People look forward to a State of the Union by G.W. Bush. This time, however, I know she came to call out of worry.
Some days ago, my sainted mother found a small lump on the inside of my thigh. Frantic with worry, she drove me to the vet, who confirmed my worst suspicions: it is a Commie bug implanted to track me on my missions. My vet has secured the services of a bomb squad, the Secret Service, and some communication experts from the Department of Defense. Together, they will attempt to disarm the insidious tracking device tomorrow.
Please think of me, friends, as I undergo excruciating surgery without anesthetic tomorrow, even though it won't hurt, because I'm not a pansy.
xo,
B
4 comments:
Dear Commie-thwarter,
Do you feel that they slipped you a mickey in your kibble to implant said device without your knowledge or consent? Be careful! As your sainted-mother is subject to mind control, she could be used in their evil plans.
Bro..
Maximillian the Valliant
Max,
Do you think the Feds would place me with a mother whose background was not in international espionage? Fear not, my brother. This commie bug comes from one of my latest (and still highly classified) missions.
B
Good luck WJG...you are the man..you can do it....
Tag you're it Billy (come see my blog to see what the game is, silly warrior)
Pippin
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