Lola. Dog

My Dearest Blog Readers,

I hope you are all doing well and have had a fabulous week.  I wish I could say that I am relaxing the day away in my cave, but I am not.  The big ones are headed to San Antonio today and I was told I cannot stay at the apartment alone.  I am by no means happy about this.  That being said, if I can't be at home, then my next favorite place is definitely with my Aunt Tiffany.  The big ones, of course, shattered that, too.  Apparently Aunt Tiffany will be in Europe (eye roll), so I can't go there, either.  The big one said that I get to stay with my Aunt Leslie.  Which is fine.  I like my Aunt Leslie.  She's nice.  But she has a dog.  One that I've never met.  One that apparently weighs more than my mom (I call her that when I'm a little frightened).  He's big.  A Great Dane.  Oh man.

So, I was told this information at the beginning of the week and I have had all week to process it.  I've decided to embrace it.  I like making new friends (that's not true).  I will meet the new dog and be gracious and appreciative for his allowing me to stay at his home.  It's just for a few days.  Plus, it beats sitting in a tiny metal cage at the boarding facilities.  Those places have millions of dogs who like to run and drool on each other.  Ick, no thank you.  That's it.  I have decided.  I will go, meet this dog, make him love me, and we will get along swimmingly. 

That brings me to the picture above.  Normally when I travel by car, I sit on one of the big ones' lap.  That way I can look out the window if I so please.  Sometimes I jump back and forth between the two laps.  So, they got the big idea that I should have my own 'seat'.  They strap it in the back seat (!) and put me in there, clipping a short leash type thing to my collar.  So, I'm forced to sit there.  I cannot escape.

I hate it.  They say it's safer, blah, blah, blah.  I think it is dog torture!  Also, I would like to add that the look on my face in the first picture is not one of happiness.  It is extremely hot in the 'back seat'.  There aren't any vents, which supports my claim of being tortured. 

I have more news for you next week!

Until next time,
Lola