Oliver totally benefits from Thathi's generosity and I think he is way more spoiled than I am because both Ammi and Thathi indulge the crap out of him. Below is a photograph I took earlier on this evening of him lounging in the midst of 7 of his 8 beds. And yes, you read that correctly. EIGHT BEDS.
Here is a clockwise break down starting from 7 o'clock.
The plaid one with the monkey in it sits in the living room in front of the window. He sleeps there in the afternoon sun.
Navajo print? Hideous I know, but it's the latest acquisition and has usurped the original favourite bed in my parents room for the night sleep.
That little sofa! It is the one that makes me go squee. That was his first Christmas present and it's a bit worse for wear these days, there's barely any padding in it so it's got another bed in it to soften things up a bit. This used to be his go to bed, it recently got booted from my parents' room into mine.
The barefoot pillowcase is covering the kitchen floor cushion. He perches on there while we're eating.
Winnie the Pooh's chillaxing on the bed that is permanently fixed in the study.
And finally, the derelict plaid cushion. His very first bed which gets afforded no respect these days. Anyone who's been over will verify this for you, but he literally just carries that around in his mouth from room to room.
Not pictured: the other barefoot floor cushion, it's his "outdoor" pillow and has been put away in storage until the warmer weather is back.
So in light of all these indulgences and what's been going on with the Toronto Humane Society we went by the Vet's office today to drop off some dog cookies for the animal shelter food drive that they're doing for Christmas. The deal was, bring in some dog food and have your pet's picture taken with Santa. Of course this would not do for us because our lovely pet would most likely shit on Santa out of excitement, urinate with no abandon or headbutt him. Oh, and natch, those poor needy shelter animals didn't get gourmet carob, yogurt, carrot and peanut cookies. Those plebes got Milk Bones.
If you only knew how many people have seen these in the cookie jar, stuck their hands in and tried to eat them thinking they were of the human variety. Aren't they cute though?
Every day in the morning I tell myself that I'm not going to read the latest on what's going on with the whole Humane Society debacle, but I do and my stomach churns. Oliver has been getting a lot of extra love these days as a result which I suppose isn't necessarily a bad thing? Anyways, if you get the chance I would recommend taking a stroll through here: http://www.thestar.com/topic/TorontoHumaneSociety
I daily resist the urge to take a bite out of this little face. Daily.
