She left in the wee hours of the morning.
In a Panzer V Honda Element armed with an 88 MM GPS.
Said she was going to visit some of our close relatives in the Confederacy.
The Kerrys are reputed to be unreconciled Irish Nationalists whose human keepers have to combine brogue with drawl; as in, "Ya'll come back now, or I'll send yer Sainted Mother into the pub after ye!"
Anyway, we're into a heap of trouble in the absence of the Mom!
Buster just demolished one of his human brother's stuffed animals, and I, Bailey Diva Mistress of the Known Universe, am vexing my Grandma by barking endlessly at the sky.
Life is good.
I have adopted a fashionably ratty, "contemporary tramp" look-- ah, c'est moi, vraiment!
Bozo the Wunder Slug has placed his pit-bull wannabe jaws around every forbidden object, from stuffed animal to wireless router, refusing to release his grip until momentarily distracted by a collision between Earth and a passing comet.
We hope Mom gets back soon!
But not too soon!
So much trouble, so little time.
La vie est belle.