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.