Dear Peasants,
Look into my eyes. You will bow to me. You will provide me with all of your kibble. When you go out and eat steak, you will bring some to me in a Doggie Bag. (There’s a reason for the name, hello!) You will rub my tummy whenever I want. You will play rope with me. You will let me kick your head off your own pillow, so that I may use it to sleep. You will stop going to work, because frankly I am your full-time job.
No, I will not sit. No, I will not stay. No, I will not stop slamming my bowls on the floor when I’m upset. No, I will not stop growling at anything that moves on the television screen.
You can’t tell me what to do. You can’t hold me down.
I am Horatio, Master of Worlds.
…I need to go to the bathroom, please.
Bones,
Horatio
4 Comments
August 21, 2008 at 11:26 am
I think this is my favourite one yet. I heart Horatio and his demanding ways.
August 21, 2008 at 12:07 pm
This is starting to sound familiar. I think I once dated Horatio.
August 21, 2008 at 3:07 pm
Horatio’s eyes are hypnotizing!
August 21, 2008 at 10:53 pm
OMG PATRICK IS RIGHT. THAR BE A STEADY DIET OF HUMAN SOULS IN THAR.
Y’all might want to lay off on feeding him human souls for a while. Maybe a nice turkey soul or a daisy soul, just until his eyes stop shooting green lasers all the livelong day.
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