After just tucking into my yummy steak dinner, Pushkin lovingly lying next to me, I realized with horror that I'd left my beer in the kitchen. I did some quick math to figure out how quick I would have to be to put my plate down next to the computer, get up and go to the kitchen, grab the beer, and race back to my dinner before Pushkin would make a move on my food. Well, I got back to find Pushy nomming on my sweet potato mash. Hah, suck on yams, fat boy! Luckily the steak was on the far side of the plate and he hadn't reached it yet. So I got to enjoy most of my dinner anyway. Course I could've carried my plate back with me, but it seemed such a bother, and I do like to live dangerously.
Pushkin just loves me at dinnertime and must be by my side. Just loves me....
Pushkin just loves me at dinnertime and must be by my side. Just loves me....