I Have Been Chastised.

As I warned in my first post, I may not stick with this blogging business regularly. Between Holiday 2014 festivities, steady work during December and my multitude of other activities, I have been busy. Really, I have.

So when my baby brother, K.B./Daddy Hawk, demanded I get to posting on this fine day, I responded in my usual fashion-"I ain't got nuttin to say." His response was...uhm...encouraging (yeah, that's the word).

Anyhoo. He suggested I post a picture or something amusing. I would if I knew how.

So I sit here in my chair with my glass of wine (birthday prez from the hubby, Llano Gewuerztraminer, unpronounceable but very nice), listening to Treehouse Masters (I wanna treehouse!) at 9:30pm and my beloved fur baby (Chewy, Prince Mutley, Lord Chewmeister, formerly known as Joe) is whining. He wants to go to bed.

Did I mention it's 9:30? At least it's better than last night. Last night he wanted to go snoozeville at 7:30.

Chewy is a lab mixed with something, we know not what. He has achieved the ripe young age of 10 1/4 years and has refused to grow up. Except when it comes to bedtime. Do not confuse the dog with the facts. Bedtime is whenever he deems it appropriate.

So what happens when the hubby and I ignore the dog? Well...He mopes around for a while, looking longingly toward said bedroom until he realizes that Mommy and Daddy will not be coming to bed forthwith. He then goes to said bedroom, dismantles the linens and makes his hairy self cozy in one of several locations: Mommy's pillow, Daddy's side of the bed, or (his personal fave) the exact center of the bed.

The real fun begins at Mommy and Daddy's bedtime. Need I say that Daddy is usually the loser in the battle for real estate? I thought not. Alpha Mommy can usually walk in, thank the dog for warming her side of the bed and get in, but Beta Daddy is not so fortunate. The ensuing discussion between mutt and male usually consists of a staring contest, eye-rolling (on the part of mutt), begging (on the part of male) and laughing (on the part of yours truly).

About the time an accord is made and Beta Daddy is getting comfortable, the beloved canine insists he must investigate the great out-of-doors.

I'm not sure which will go first, but I have promised to bury them together.

T.