Coqui Pinch Hits for L

 

What’s up, blogsters?  Coquette “Coqui” intheSoutheast here.  You might remember me – I’m the cutie pie pooch in the pictures in her banner, above.

Her..she…L.

L has been having quite a dry spell as far as writing is concerned.  I know she told you that in her last, pathetic post.  Waaaah, I can’t think of anything to write about!

Well, this bitch doesn’t have that problem.  So, while she’s downstairs staring at her keyboard, I sneaked upstairs to use the Upstairs Laptop – yes, she has it like that, spoiled brat!  She still hasn’t figured out that I am a very technically savvy canine.  I can type AND spell.

The things I could tell you.  For instance, take this morning.  Since it’s Thursday and she doesn’t have to go to her exercise classes, she lollygagged in bed, playing Candy Crush on her iPhone and watching the news on TV.  I played possum, but I had one eye slightly open to watch her, the real show in room.

All of a sudden L jumps out of bed like a spider bit her on the ass and starts unloading the dirty clothes hamper.  Clothes were flying like trash in a hurricane.  She made the usual three piles on the floor: whites, light colors, and dark colors.

I was watching all this from our bed, which it too high for me to jump from anymore.  Hey, I’ll be 12 people years old in a couple weeks!  I’m elderly. (But not like L is.  My hair has always been white.  I don’t look a day over 3 people years.)

Anyhoo, I’m lying there watching this weirdness – did I mention she was naked?  Yep.  Right there in front of God and me and everybody, she took off her pajamas and threw them on the light-color pile.  God forbid she should fail to include every last piece of worn laundry in this load.

Next thing I know she puts me on the floor and starts stripping the bed.  She’s kind of lazy, you know, so instead of putting each piece on the floor below her, she balls up each pillow case and pitches them like softballs towards the laundry room.  I of course, think she is playing, so I start chasing the flying linen.

When L gets in these moods it can get hazardous for a little dog like me.  I decided to park my booty on the white pile, which I’ve loved to do since I was a tiny pup.  They smell like her, so it’s the next best thing to being snuggled next to her. (Did she ever tell you she sometimes calls me Velcro? I am always happiest when our bodies are touching somewhere.)

By the way, you haven’t seen anything until you’ve seen L in the morning, with or without PJs.  At night she puts her hair on top of her head with a ratty old scrunchy.  Then she puts this hardware in her mouth – it fits over her top teeth to stop the grinding she does all night, thank God!  That noise keeps me awake.

By morning, her hair has escaped the scrunchy and is all over her head, Halloween witch ready.  Then, it never fails, she forgets about the mouth guard and starts trying to talk to me in the high-pitched, fake voice she uses to butter me up.  It comes out mmmph Coqui, mmmph mnnmph mnbph well?  Since I don’t know what the hell she’s talking about most of the time, I just lie there and stare at her.

Well, I hear L coming up the stairs.  I guess she looked up from staring at the Downstairs Laptop’s keyboard and noticed I was not stuck to her left thigh.  Gotta run. 

Oh yeah.  Congratulations on getting your stupid government back up and running.  Me?  I never noticed the difference.  Whether it is running or shutdown, they all look pretty hilarious to me.  But, yeah, I know.  I’m just a dog.