So Labor Day came and went -- we like holidays because mom and dad are home more with us. This year, though, they decided to make sure they wouldn't have to chase us so much. And granted, we did find a way-cool hole in the back fence where we could go visit the neighbor's cat any time we wanted.
Here's how they presented the new thing: "You can be out in the yard more, no matter what we're doing."
That sounded ok, and then we saw it. It unfolded from a plastic block into something that looks more like a 6-sided playpen for urchins.
After a day, this is how we feel:
Bandit: It's not so bad, but I can't dig quite as freely. Wanna rub my ears?
Maggie (right): I hate it. I hate mom. I hate dad. I hate the yard. I hate Ernie for sitting in the yard chair and watching me. I hate you all.
3 comments:
I know why the caged bird sings.
(Or is it the caged weiner dog yelp?)
XXOO, Bisquick
I feel your pain. That fence looks less fearsome than chickenwire, which is what I'm dealing with here now...
keep the faith, magstress. if you can climb a piece of plywood, surely you can figure out a way to climb a plastic fence!
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