Ozzie
is so spoiled that:
*He takes his half of the bed out of the middle.
*He barks like mad when I "talk" to the kitten.
*He will not let me lay on the sofa, unless he can crawl up, nestle into the crook of my arm and then flip over on his back with his feet in the air to nap. (All 13 pounds of him.)
*I can spend 90 minutes cooking then carefully preparing (between Cuisinart and hand-chopping) a meal for him that he will sniff, and walk away from in 2 seconds. (Since he got out of the hospital this week after three days of liquids, though, getting him to eat has NOT been an issue.)
Most of the time at least, I don't care. He is always so glad to see me every night, greets me with almost as much fervor every morning, doesn't care how I look, loves to comfort me (head on shoulder or lap) when I don't feel well, and can't stay mad at me no matter what.
I was with a man for 10 years that I can't say that about!
