Our pet human has contracted a unique strand of Lycanthropy that transforms her from human to bitch without the bone popping furry consequesces. She foolishly keeps refering to it as a cold, but we know better. She reeks of aspirin and citrus.
Hide the biscuits!
The man servant has been hiding out in the basement, undoubtedly too frightened to show his head.
We have demanded that she relinquish command of this post to us until the symptoms subside and have sent her blog hopping. If you see her, please be kind. She's not contagious. And pretty soon she'll be back to her delightfully stinky self, just how we like her.
Also, don't be angry if your canine counterpart can't type. We're smarter than we look, but if you knew the truth, that would put an end to our perfect lives.
Sincerely,
Deedra and Stryker,
Pooch Patrol
