Auntie and I got in the Yukon this afternoon.
There was a stinky smell—she checked the trash sack and under the
seats. It smelled like something dead,
maybe a mouse. I just sat on the
console, trying to stay out of the way.
Then Popo got in. He could smell
it, too. Then they both looked at
me. The source of the smell was sitting
right between them. What had I gotten
into now--smelly weeds, sewer water? I
didn’t matter, I was headed for the bathtub, again.
This
has just not been my weekend. Yesterday
we went to see the baby bison at Dunn Ranch.
Of course I couldn’t actually ride on the wagon, but I could watch everything else from the car. It was
pretty fun. On the way, we stopped at
Casey’s for donuts. Auntie came out of
the store with a box—I watched with great anticipation as everyone ate their
donut. There were some left in the
box. Oh boy, these must be for me!
Auntie put them in a cooler bag and zipped the top. Darn, I’ve never tried to get in the cooler
bag. I decided to just try to forget
about the donuts. Later in the day when
we stopped for lunch, Auntie fixed my food and got my water bowl out of the bag. After everyone went in the restaurant to eat
lunch, I decided to see what I could find in the back seat. I got a whiff of
those donuts—I don’t think she got the cooler bag completely zipped.
When
Auntie opened the car door, there it was—a chewed up box—all that was left of the donuts.
