I'm being held captive by these two ferocious furry freaks! I'm a prisoner on my own bed, even while they sleep! So exhausted and thankful for the silence, I shudder at the thought of moving a muscle for fear they will stir and the struggle will begin anew.
Some thoughts from a Pug mom, clearly in over her head...
A word to whoever it was that told us Pugs don't bark. Bite me!
Another word to whoever it was that said Pugs are the perfect dry run if one is considering human infants. You're right!
Will I ever be able to paint, uninterrupted, for more than 10 minutes at a time?
Will there be a time, on the way to the loo at 3 am, that we don't trip over a platoon of pillows standing guard to catch the occasional falling Pug! Why does Raz insist upon hugging the edge of the bed? Edge hugger!
Is that grunting sound a warning or a plea? I discovered last week it can be either one.
Will the hip replacement "take," even though Raz does his best Mikhail Baryshnikov while "resting" in his crate?
Why is it I'm looking forward to a trip to the grocery store?
Does himself really think I'll consent to breeding them and keeping a puppy?
And finally, anal sacs are a gift from hell, lovingly wrapped by the devil himself!
I'm posting one painting a month, if I'm lucky. I'm receiving, shall we say, less than kind notes from impatient clients. I'm cranky, pissed off and feel like I'll never have time to do what I want, ever again!
Uh oh! Wait! Their doin' that "Children of the Corn" thing with their eyes again! Hold me, I'm frightened! Don't look Suz! I won't look, you can't make me! Avert your eyes! Avert your eyes! Too late...
I'm melting!! (for full effect, please read like the witch in The Wizard of Oz)
Please don't forget me! I might actually be posting a painting this week!