Raw Food Diet, 162- Woe is Me

Abandonment, cruelty, general stinkheadedness... these are all words I would use describe my situation.  How did it all come to this?  Well, my dad has left me.  Gone.  He packed his bag and walked out the door, without so much as a kiss on the schnozzle or a cheesy treat.  Dad left me, and he left me with stinky rule-enforcing mom.  He left me, and he took his super fun socks with him.  He left me, and he was my favorite.

What is there to do now?  And what is the point of doing it?  Sure, catching bugs and eating them is still fun, but it just doesn't mean the same when dad isn't here to cheer me on - without him telling me he's proud of my hunting skills.  It's just not the same.  And why go Sleepies like Good Boy in my crate if dad isn't near me in his human crate?  I need to smell him at night to know that I'm safe.  And the smell will be gone.  

I shall remain perched on top of this sofa, groin exposed, immovable.  I shall protest for dad's return.  (Except when feasting and weebling.  Dad will understand that.)

And why did my favorite human in the whole wide world leave me in such a state, you ask?  Well, dad is going to Boston to watch the Red Sox play at Fenway's park.  In my mind that translates to: Leaving Stanislaw.  Pure and simple.  When Big Pupi heard dad was leaving for a Red Sox game and he wasn't even planning to come home with a Fenway frank for us beloved dogs... well, I don't even want to tell you what he said.  Just terrible.  

We shall remain sullen until he returns.  We shall remain depressed and hungry for the cheesy snacks that dad likes to sneak us when mom isn't looking.  But we shall remain hopeful that he comes home soon and he brings back his wonderfully stinky socks that I love so dearly to thrash and tear.  Oh woe is me.  Father, I miss you.

What's that?  Dad gets home TOMORROW!?  Is it tomorrow yet?

Is it? 

Mom, is it tomorrow yet?  Huh?

Is it?

IS IT??!