Thursday, August 03, 2017
This time, I came home with this thing wrapped around my leg. It catches when I walk, particularly going up the stairs. And it makes getting in and out of boxes really hard (Female Slave came to the rescue, thankfully). First, they wouldn't let me out. And then, when they finally obeyed my orders, the front exit was blocked. What use is that? But then they gave me freshly-cooked chicken breast. Not the boring dry stuff. No even AD. It was so moist and tender. The real taste of chicken. Not organic though.
I heard them call me Hoppalong. Were they mocking me? Surely they wouldn't dare. Come to think of it, I remember Male Slave using that term for Female Slave a couple of years ago, so it's can't be bad. I think I'll just sleep for the afternoon now.