Bacon!

   OMG. Mom made turkey-bacon this morning. I was so excited. She was considering eating some real meat, cause she discovered that she cannot eat gluten and it turns out all of that fake-meat is made from gluten. So she buys some bacon at the grocery store (from happy turkeys, whatever that means), cooks it up this morning, puts it on a plate, takes a bite, and then Dad and her just look at each other and put their bacon down. WHAT! WHO PUTS BACON DOWN?!?!?! They are clearly beyond help. They decided they just can't do it. Dad said he felt like it was a low point. He clearly doesn't understand what "low" means. 

  To make matters worse, Mom and Dad took Bandit to a party last night and left me at home with Grandma. I'm the party-dog in this family. I don't whine about stuff and I love begging for food. But no. They brought Bandit. He probably didn't even sniff out all the dropped food (parties always have lots of food). Mom said they couldn't bring me cause I am a scaredy-dog and there was a bonfire. Which, yeah, would have been terrifying, but still. 

   Yesterday Daddy didn't work, which was strange, but good. He took us on walk, so that was a plus. But then he got us home and starting torturing us. He got out paper and this weird wet black pad of some sort and started pressing our paws against them, over and over again. He said mine was the best, which should have been clear from the beginning, whatever it was he was doing. I was worried that maybe he had gone insane, but then when Mom got home she started helping him, doing the same thing Bandit and Chester until they were satisfied with the results. Turns out Daddy wants to get our paw prints tattooed on his skin. I have a hard time understanding this concept, but I like the idea of my paws being on Daddy permanently. Its like if I peed on him, and then he smelled like my pee forever. That would be cool. Now I kinda want to pee on Dad. 

   So, big news on the S.A.D. front, Mom and Dad have decided to stay in Minnesota for another year. Mom is gonna start school in Fall so she can finish her BA. Whats a ba? I think this sounds like the same thing they tried in St. Cloud, but Mom says it might be better cause they're gonna go on vacation to sunny places at strategically planned times in the winter. I don't see how leaving me for a week will somehow help Mom, but whatever. Mom says she's gonna be better cause she'll get sunlight, but she doesn't seem that confident. I just don't want her to get to the point where Dad and I have to hide sharp things again. That is too much stress for one dog. Daddy and I are gonna have to be on guard (which I am excellent at) to make sure she doesn't get that bad again, cause if she does then we will be in charge of just picking us all up and moving to California. Mom wants to get a tattoo too, of some lyrics in the shape of a sun. 

She wants to get it on her wrist so that she will remember that the sun comes out again, and she shouldn't kill herself. Dogs don't really have that whole suicide thing in the same way. Although I once ate some mushy white thing on the ground that I knew might make me throw up. It was worth it. I think Mom should just remember that I exist, then she won't want to kill herself, cause look at how cute I am! 

   And with that thought, I'm gonna find a sun-spot and nap. Thinking is hard work.