In reality, making Mike look silly just ain’t that hard.
All I had to do was to start playing around with the buns of the hot dog toy that I destuffed back at Christmas (thanks again, Aunt Susie, for the gift that keeps on giving). As soon as I started paying attention to it, there was Mike, thinking he could turn those buns into earmuffs–for me! Fat chance, Mike. However, just so his vision wouldn’t be totally lost to posterity, Mike put those buns on his own ears, and took a photo to commemorate the auspicious occasion. Good thinking, Mike.
Anyhow, Mike and Heather are back, and the all-day buffet I was enjoying is over. In addition, Dachshunds Day has been postponed to the last weekend in February because Frank and Stanley’s parents are away somewhere and they can’t come. I’m beginning to suspect Mike is going to keep putting this off until he thinks I’ve forgotten about it. No chance.
However, Mike returned from Florida with a couple of really tasty lamb shank bones for me, so the homecoming wasn’t all bad. And Lynn, my sitter, gave me a couple of bouncy blue balls for my birthday that are small enough to fit comfortably in my mouth and also knock around the living room. So even if Dachshunds Day turns out to be a bust, I’ve made out pretty well already.
Mike also returned from Florida with an orange knit SU hat, courtesy of his friend Larry, who I met when he visited out here in September for the Syracuse-UW football game. Larry met Mike at the SU basketball game in Tampa last weekend and gave him this souvenir from the almighty Pinstripe Bowl. Now Mike wears this new hat every time he takes me on a walk, hoping someone will engage him in conversation about the Orange.
Frankly, I’d rather have nothing to do with Mike’s inane fandom. Yesterday, for instance, he banished me from watching the Georgetown-SU game with him. Why? The last four games he watched with me were SU losses, and then the two games he watched in Florida without me were wins. So while he was in the bedroom, I sat on the living room floor–in the dark!– until Heather came home.
Screw Mike. With about four minutes left in the game, I stuck my head into the bedroom and whined once. The Orange didn’t score again. Then I scarfed up all the popcorn and chips Mike had strewn across the floor and wagged my tail. Hoya Saxa.