Go ahead and Google that word. I'll wait.
Anyway, this morning at precisely one second after midnight, Tuesday safely arrived, so yoo can all simmer down and catch yoor breaths. There's no use worrying about the inevitable until Sunday anyway.
Go ahead and Google that word. I'll wait.
Anyway, this morning at precisely one second after midnight, Tuesday safely arrived, so yoo can all simmer down and catch yoor breaths. There's no use worrying about the inevitable until Sunday anyway.
Hi pals, it's me Herman TattleCat back with the conclusion of my Diary pages when I flew to Las Vegas for the 2014 Blogpaws conference.
You know, no matter how old we pets are, there is still time to surprise our pawrents. For instance when Mom mentioned to our vet that she was concerned about how well I would do mixing it up with other pets at this conference, especially dogs because we never had a dog in our house, the vet told Mom she thought I would do extremely well. She said when I was around dogs at the vet (behind the scenes type of stuff while getting treatments) I was always chill, not at all upset with the barking.
And that proved to be right, because on day one Mom was wheeling me through the huge hotel lobby filled with dogs in my Gen7Pet stroller named Mosey (you know him from my Sherlock Herms Purranormal Mystery novel that he's actually a Time Travel machine) when suddenly a Great Dane sauntered past me and licked my head before continuing on his way. My pawrents were stunned. Not only by my chill reaction, but also that they hadn't considered a huge doggo might slurp me.
So here is the Conclusion of my Diary to Blogpaws in Las Vegas:
What the Friskies! You back already? Boy, that was a short night. I barely got in my standard nine hour cat nap. Anyway! I guess you're here to read the diary I kept while I attended the Las Vegas BlogPaws 2014 convention. Go ahead and read below. I'm going back to bed.
Hi pals, it's me Herman!!! back with an exciting week of Time Travel to 2014 when I flew to Las Vegas beside my pawrents to attend my first Blogpaws adventure. The week started out very exciting since I'd never been on a plane. But soon after we arrived, my pawrents realized I was in trouble and mom had to call 9-11.
I kept a diary of my adventure, as follows:
So far you are being blamed for Daddy stepping in a Gidget-gross hairball first step out of bed.
You are also to blame for crows tearing apart the trash bags on the curb shortly after my Dadders put them out.
Also, the gooey drink dripped over the counter into the drawers, as well as soaked her shoes and shorts. Not a good look, I assure you.