Now it seems that recently, in addition to the long stints of water drinking --
(“When I drink, I drink; when I don’t, I don’t”)
-- The Smee has also taken to positively dashing those last few feet to his water bowl.
While he may enter the house slowly, stand, lick, take a step, sit, feast at his crotch a bit, sit up, look around, vigorously lick upside his neck,
when he gets to within 4 or 5 feet of the bathroom door, he commences a serious jog that propels him, in a darting fashion, to his water bowl.
No comments:
Post a Comment