Princess here, good news to report, mom gave up drugging me at night to make me sleep. I don’t know what she was shoving down my throat, but it was nowhere near strong enough to keep this old party girl down. I remember one time back in the day this Rottweiler slipped me a mickey, it didn’t work either. Sleep wasn’t the only thing I faked that night. Furball was taken to get a haircut last week. Let’s see, how to best describe his appearance, a black pipe cleaner with legs, yes, I think that’s a fair description. Of course I don’t have much room to talk, I look like a gremlin post water since my last cut. I think mom may have slipped the groomer something before she unleashed the clippers from hell on me. Since mom and dad decided I can no longer sleep in the basement, I’ve been sharing a bed with the Menace in the kitchen. It started out as a pretty comfortable bed, however, the Menace has been slowly eating the bed in her sleep. Do you have any idea how nerve racking it is sleeping next to a goat on steroids. Truth be told, this last year has not been my best. I’ve got a case of the dry eye and I just don’t think I’ve maintained my girlish good looks. It’s kind of hard to rock the leash and collar look with an eye that looks like and feels like cotton candy. I think dad wants me to take up sewing because he’s always telling mom “we should just give her the needle.” I’ve got better things to do than take up sewing, however, if the Menace keeps it up, I may have to sew myself another bed. Chow baby, until next time.