October 5, 2005

White Dog was troubled when we went to bed last night and set the back-up alarm (which means an extra early rising). She woke me this morning by sitting on my face and biting my hands. "Let's talk about this job interviewing stuff," she grunted.

"What? Let me get a few more minutes of sleep," I begged. "I need to get a part-time job."

"You already have a job--taking care of us," she insisted, licking my eyelid to punctuate her point.

I pulled the covers over my head. "You sound like Steve."

White Dog stood on chest, "Don't confuse want for need," she whispered cryptically.