Another thunderstorm is rolling through, this time with plenty of lightning. Sparky is on high alert. When I decided to use the bathroom, Sparky had to figure out how to maintain decorum while never being farther than a body length away.
His conversational gambit was awkward enough, I had to take a photo.
Sparky was tense about the rainstorm. I shot an ASMR video of Sparky weathering the storm.
Sparky had way too much going on today.
A thunderstorm just went through, as I was boiling a ham bone and Sparky got a new toy. Any one of those events would dominate his attention.
“I hear the pope. He’s underground, right here. Dig! Dig!”
I already explained this. The pope isn’t missing, they haven’t chosen a new pope yet.
“Get a shovel. Before he gets away.”
Do you know what the pope is?
“Sure, popes have a pointy head, digger hands and a weird mouth.”
Are you thinking of moles?
You aren’t allowed to search for the pope anymore.
Sparky was relaxing in the grass when I told him that the search was on for a new pope. He was immediately alert and offered to help.
Sparky needs a pocket Holstein to pal around with.
Sparky thought he looked slick in his ninja suit. The reality didn’t match the image in his head. That’s fine, it happens to everyone.
Why does that happen so often with yoga pants?
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