As my blog followers know when I lived on your side of the Bridge I slept in, entertained guests in, swam laps in, and watched movies on my widescreen TV in, my leopard skin vagina kitty condo. When I crossed over the Bridge I asked my sister Pocket to turn the condo into a museum featuring historical artifacts of my life so friends from around the land could tour it.
When you undertake a venture like opening up a museum public relations is critical. Any negative publicity could be disastrous. So, when the soul whose name is going to be above the word museum gets a new sister who takes a leak on the roof of said museum it is reasonable to expect that anticipated traffic there will be lessened once the news goes viral.
Luckily, except for worldwide condemnation of my leaky sister River’s behavior, there was no blowback from the news. But then River, who, I might add, was an unwed puppy age mother when I gave her a chance as my replacement on my Mom’s lap showed that the future of dogdom is in very poor hands, because she did not heed my warnings about what I would do to her if she peed on my condo again, she upped her game.
She crapped on the roof of my condo. My condo! Where I sleep! Where my children come and play with their toys!
Something needed to be done. I visited Pocket in her dreams, told her that I was disappointed in her, and, to make it up to me, and properly punish River, Pocket needed to attack River and send her to my side of the Bridge so she would no longer be able to desecrate my kitty condo.
But should Pocket be absolved of all guilt? (Being a Yorkie who has passed to the heavens and is still blogging on Earth I do feel a certain right to absolve.) I say no! So, to punish Pocket for not protecting the kitty condo, I visited River in her dreams and ordered her to attack Pocket and send her to my side of the Bridge as punishment.
Now don’t worry about your friends. The two of them could not injure a grasshopper in need of a walker. But I do take the utmost joy in watching the two of them go at it, snarling, biting, nipping and not inflicting a bit of damage on either one of them (although I do apologize to my Mommy who is left refereeing the battles, but just between us, she should have kept her eye on the condo too.)
This still left me with a security problem at my condo. I first instructed Mommy to put the condo in her bedroom closet where no dogs are allowed. Then I hired Max the ever awake security guard. Here is a picture of Max guarding the entry of my condo.
Now there is a dog I can trust. No needs, no demands. If you visit the museum please heed him, he may look harmless, but you don’t want to cross him.
The museum is now open. Stop by and visit.
Sorry for the smelly roof