Wilma Don't Fetch

This will come as no surprise to most of you. Why would I, such a magnifcent beast, participate in such degrading canine pursuits? Clearly I would not, I have staff for that.

Now readers, although I don't fetch, desperate times call for desperate measures. Last night was one of those times. You see Mom and Dad were watching that hideous talent show American Idol. The only part of that rubbish I have any respect for is Simon ( We have a lot in common after all). Now that he's announced his departure, I had to pull those two away, before they were sucked into the vortex. How did I do it you ask. I had to dig deep into my reserve of artifice. Feeling rather fiesty, I decided it was time for a game of fetch. Fear not my friends. This is how I do it. I choose a lambie (that's what we call toys around here), and proceed to drop it off the edge of the couch. I then proceed to bark at it until one of THEM fetches it FOR ME. So much more fun and amusing to me, it's incredible how long they are occupied by this folly. I like to mix it up by throwing in a few other moves as well. Another thing I like to do is to sit at the end of the couch, bed, where ever and just start staring. I stare and stare making crazier and more posessed faces,

and then when they least expect it...I run at them. Straight up their bodies into their faces. I had not engaged in these pursuits for quite some time, so it was a perfect distraction from that drivel on TV. I also forgot how enjoyable it can be. I went on for a good hour, after which time, I was exhausted, it was time for a drink and a nap. Good times my friends, good times.