Suitcase Time

Oh man, I just know what is going on and I am not happy about it. For months now I had my homie all to myself, just the way I like it. We get up and we take a little stroll, then she serves me breakfast after which I can go back to bed, because she starts doing boring stuff behind the computer and on the telephone (I believe that's what they are called). Sometimes when I think she needs a little company I go and lie down near her, but not before I give her a nice wet nuzzle.

I like it best of all when Homie fusses around the house. For some reason she likes moving objects from room to room or even just from one side of a room to the other. She does this all the time. Always busy. She calls it 'tidying up', but I'm not sure what that means. I just lie there and am so very amused. She pours a little water on the plants that she has put in pots indoors. Unbelievable, that is so peculiar. Can't even dig a hole in a itty bitty pot like that. She does wacky things but I let her. Whatever makes her happy and I know when she is happy because then she whistles!

My favorite time of the day is when she opens the fridge. Wooooopeeeeee, then she does her magic and the house starts smelling like dog heaven. Just for the record, dog heaven does not smell of day old dead gophers like many humans think, but like a really good soup made from scratch. I can smell each individual ingredient that goes into that pot. Beef for the bouillion, onion and garlic (but those last two get scooped out later. Try to understand that?). Then carrots and leeks, and meat balls that smell of pepper, salt and curry and then lastly, vermicelli. Those are little wormy things. In my portion, Homie adds brown rice. Lipping licking good. I know I didn't say that quite right. Hey, my human age is 11 so give me a break when I don't get everything right.

Anyway, I always think that drooling looks a little dumb, but I can't help myself when Homie makes soup.

Now I have made myself all happy when I really am sad. It's suitcase time. There has been more fussing around the house than usual and I see the packed bags in the guest room. Sometimes my sighs come from way, way down inside me. I try to hold them in but they escape me when I see those suitcases. I look at Homie and wish she would just take me along so that she doesn't get lonely without me. I wonder if Homie feels the same. I somehow I think she does because I always get more attention during suitcase time and soup made from scratch.