And the letter P is for...hum...

I just don't know people. I've been racking my brains. The dog won't stop whining. He wants to eat the cat. The same cat he's been stalking through the back door for oh, nine months now. I keep ranting..."It's the same cat. It's not a new cat. Why is she such a surprise to you everyday". And the cat, d@*n her if she doesn't egg him on, staring through the glass, putting a paw on the door. Psychotic!(there's my P word, right there) That's what she is and he's without a doubt, a bone short. I keep having these pep talks about how he should be the bigger guy and not let her get to him. He's a Great Dane for crying out loud. Being the bigger guy shouldn't be a problem. After all, he's the one inside the house. No, he's got to hop around the kitchen like he's never been so disrespected, when the truth is, we both know she did it to him yesterday and the day before and the day before. I cannot concentrate here! I'm going to Starbucks. ;)