Dog Drug Rehab

So, did you know that June bugs are made of crack?!

Because that's the only explanation for Miss Daisy's evening obsession. She cries, whines, and barks to go outside, in the 118% humidity, just to catch and eat as many brown little fuckers as possible before being angrily dragged back up two flights of stairs. She then proceeds to sit at the tightly shut patio door and freaking attack the glass in a futile attempt to ingest even more nasty, pricky, crunchy insects of crack.

As I type, she's invading my personal space, eyes wide and pleading, "Moooooooommaaa, pease take me outsiiiiiiiiide. I need to eats s'more bugses!"

(Yes, to answer your question, Daisy speaks fluent LOLCat.)

A Bonus little gem

Driving to Dallas to deposit Pooh at her newly detailed and repaired car, Ms. Hannigan desperately needed a fix. So we asked The Lady (read: Hannigan's new GPS toy) to find the nearest Starbucks (our familial drug of choice). The Lady obliged, sending us to Fairfield, fifty-ish miles up the road.

Twenty-five miles and countless "-ville"s and "-field"s later, Bonus asks, "What ville are we looking for again?"

Hilarity ensued.