Sofa, but not so good!

The two of us are creatures of habit. Our morning routine, which we've documented here many times, involves the same actions: waking, being forced outside, stumbling around until our mama opens the door up and we can come tearing back in, then breakfast, then naps, then more naps, and later in the day we eat and the day ends. When this gets disrupted by - for example - a person walking in front of our house with another doggie, we get upset and have to express our displeasure at them, as well as being sure that we're keeping the perimeter well guarded from these interlopers. Successful though we are at all of this, it throws us off when things are not as they should be. And, today, we were dealt a blow that will take us minutes if not an hour (give or take) to recover from: 

Our couch and chair have been stolen!

That's right: Gone! Vanished! Disapparated! (Rozi has been munching on the thesaurus in the bookshelf; you'll have to forgive her.) When we woke up this morning and took our normal morning perambulation around the yard, the welcoming green couch was there for us to relax on whilst we bided our time, waiting for our breakfast. And, for Izzi, the big green chair that is both a comfortable place to sit and a very logical and intelligent place to watch for squirrels from, was there for her to get in position. But, before we could completely relax and feel the soft fabric, which we've spent weeks digging into to get to just the right softness, we were the subjects of a ruse, a con, a three-card monte-like event. 

We were given to understand there would be "treats" in the bedroom, and - delighted at this unexpected turn of events - happily ran to receive whatever this might be (cheerios? greenies? a handful of bacon?) and yet when we prepared to have this "treat", we suspected something. Call it canine intuition, but something was off. There was too much encouragement at that hour to "have a snack" and since 50% of us are watching our waistline (or, perhaps better put: our gigantic belly) the pieces of this puzzle were not fitting together. Soon, we discovered just how right we were: we were abandoned in the room (yes, there really were treats, but that's not the point) and spent what seemed to be seventy-eleven hours barking (Rozi) and whining (Izzi). The cacophony did nothing to help us, though, as we were left to our own devices and were worried that we would never see the outside world again or have anything to eat (after Rozi ate all the treats that were left out for both of us).

Happily, we were rescued and ran back to our comfortable couch and chair and....they were gone! Instead of our comfy green couch there was this pretty whitish one, and instead of our big green chair, there was this other one that was not only smaller, but also moved when you jumped on it. These were both very upsetting developments. Where would we now lounge? Where would we now relax? Where would we now watch squirrels from?

Just because I like having my picture taken does not mean I approve of this new couch.

Me too. When's lunch?

The poor green couch and chair! We had so many happy memories of them. We jumped on them. We rolled on them. There were all those times that we just cuddled with our mama on the couch, and all the times that Izzi interrupted whomever was in the chair so that she could get into her lookout position. Good times.

SOME people get to keep their chairs!

Now, we're bereft. We have these new ... things that have invaded our house, and that we can't seem to move back to whatever planet they came from. We're not happy about this, since it has thrown our routines way off. The rhythm of our lives is not to be trifled with, and we consider this our formal statement of disappointment, and ask that our friends, the green couch and chair, be reinstated immediately. If this does not happen, we promise, we absolutely promise that we're not going to sleep or jump on or nap or jump off or climb to the back of or dig into or in anyway enjoy these new and unwelcome visitors to our home.

Until, of course, we fall asleep on them.

Arf, Yip, Yip, Arf,

Izzi and Rozi