My mistake, it seems, was in treating you like a mature gentledog. I even offered you a romp through my garden which has its own oven-- food source. I am miffed.
I'm your basic everyday Old English Sheepdog transported without my permission from Australia to Italy. Having barely mastered Australian, I'm now expected to conquer Italian.
Boh!
Cibo = food.
Next?
4 comments:
oh my GAWD that is the cutest thing ever
Thanks, Stew, I can think of worse ways to spend a day than pinned to the floor by Gina.
My mistake, it seems, was in treating you like a mature gentledog. I even offered you a romp through my garden which has its own oven-- food source. I am miffed.
Mature? Pfffft.
Gentledog? Pffffffffft.
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