Yesterday, I spied a woman planting flowers in the lot in the back that used to be covered with straw. Hello! Where am I suppose to have fun now while scratching, pawing, and sniffing around? I won't be allowed in a flower bed. This neighborhood is going to pot I tell you.

I'm beginning to worry that Laura thinks of me as nothing more than a glorified water bottle to keep her bed warm for her until she climbs in and shoves me aside.