Lazy Hands

I like being a pet. At first I grew impatient at being confined. Eating the same food, coming when called, living between the same four... five, six, let's see... 14, 15 ... then around here... 26, 27, 28! ...living between the same 28 walls.

You see? Boring. But right there, it's the little things: I've never counted the walls. And some of them I got to count twice because they had two sides to them. Never thought about that before. And there you go: perfect material to blog about.

One benefit to being a pet is that humans never seem to grow tired of lazily running their hands through my fur. I take it that human relationships must be nice that way too.