Remember me and MY couch?I wrote a lovely poem about it's splendor.
I have even shared so nicely.
Mom always straightens out my blankets for me to make it the perfect Bergamasco nest.
But now? As you can plainly see, as evidenced by the above photo, which clearly demonstrates, and conspicuously capitulates that The Kid is taking over. This is not a puppy in the middle of a sweet snuggle. This is not, "But Big Brother, it's so cold, lend me your flocky warmth." No, this is a slow and deliberate take over of my spot. And a take over of Mom's snuggle blanket, I might add.
Luckily, generally speaking, The Kid has an alarmingly short attention span and smushes me for short periods before abandoning me for a chew toy.
I think Dad was hip to my dilemma and tried to find Ayla her very own spot:
This is fine, actually, as it gets her not only off of my couch but literally out of my hair for a bit. But if you refer to the sandwich post, you will realize as I did, that technically, this is still a take-over.
{PS: You might have noticed that I really am getting the hang of embedded links and moving pictures around. Hopefully, I did not just create one of those shows that is supposed to be a new show but they keep just showing snippets of previous shows, because that is so lame.}
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