My favorite day of the week is Sunday. Now, as a dog, my daily schedule doesn't change that much, but since my mom has to go to something called Work to support me in the lifestyle to which I've become accustomed, hers does. That's why my favorite day is Sunday.
On Sundays, I still wake mom up at 6 am to politely request my breakfast. About 6:45 I wake her up again to politely request to be let out in the back yard. This is pretty much the same as every other day. But instead of leaving for work about 7:40, my mom hangs out with me until about 9:45, when I get in my crate for sleepies and she goes out to someplace called Church. She comes home a few hours later and that's when the real fun begins. First, I beg for some of her lunch. Then, we take a nap and I'm allowed up on the human sleeping crate with her! We turn on the radio and listen to baseball and snoozel. It's fabulous. After naptime, we go for a nice walk, then I have dinner, then help my mom cook her dinner. Unfortunately, this is usually the point in the day where she gets the Loud Sucking Machine out and undoes all the great shedding work I have done all over the house. I guess it can't be a perfect day. But it's pretty close.
So why can't every day be a Sunday?