Michael and I pretend that Bisquick has parties when we leave the house for work. Like he and his kitty friends sit around and drink beer.
Sometimes I think he could (or should) blog in my absence.
What would he say?
A few ideas:
Why do the humans disappear into that back room for eight hours a day?
I wish I had a better bathroom.
Are we having seafood tonight for dinner?
Naps are underrated.
I'm not obese; I'm just big-boned.
Dogs have owners. Cats have staff. I must say, Mine obey me pretty well.
Luv Bisquick
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