You think he wouldn’t like snow, considering how he routinely seeks out the hottest spot in the house. But the stuff is like catnip, and he will sit at the window staring at it, pining to run outside and turn cartwheels.
Posted in Daily Chuck | Tagged Chuck, dog
Please let me in. Please let me in.
Why go someplace more comfortable when he can just lie here and die?
Coming very, very soon
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