I put up my Christmas tree this weekend, and Papa sat very close as I tested the lights. She also lay down on top of them — a trifle dangerous as I tried to maneuver around her. Oh no, Papa, I can't play with the tennis ball now, either.
By the way, her lump was just a fat deposit, as expected. That's even better than last year's Christmas miracle (when I didn't have to get glasses).
No comments:
Post a Comment