You’d think a guy would be self-conscious if his breath smelled like his poop, but Sparky thinks it’s funny.  I had a colleague at NoRo who thought it was funny to cut a silent, but deadly fart, then call a student up to his desk for a chat.  It’s fine, he was a coach and the student was one of his players.

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With the snow coming down all day, we’ve been hunkering down.  Sparky didn’t even notice when I went down to the garage for an hour to put the snow tires on.  He was happy to lay by the fire, screw around with Mr. Moose, and help me watch Youtube.

When the wind let up, Sparky would surely be eager to bound through the snow, run off some energy and check on all the outside stuff he has to check on.  When we went out for our walk, Sparky put up a good front, but when I started for the bridge, he ran for the house. 

Sparky wants us to revisit the policy about never pooping in the house.  Even with a Carhartt jacket, going outside to poop in the snow doesn’t seem reasonable. 

To be fair, Sparky is cooperating with the policy, but he isn’t convinced.

Señor Piglet has to shed some weight.  When we talked about it, he kept patting my belly and smirking.  I can’t help thinking he was making some kind of point.

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Sparky is getting too big for his britches.  Not in the “putting on airs” sense.  I encourage him to be a confident boss.  No, he is just getting too big.  Sparky doesn’t have any britches, but now that I’ve got a sewing machine, if I made him some britches, he mustn’t be splitting the seams.

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