His dog, my bitch

Yesterday I was alone much of the day. The people went to London together first thing in the morning. Strangely, Man returned first. He got back at about 4pm and went straight about his so-called work. Woman arrived home at about 7 of your "o'clocks". What's particularly baffling for me is that, while the male comes and goes of his own free will, the female of the species seems unable to do either without the male and his blue metal box on wheels. Humans crack me up.

Anyway, as a result of the lack of company, I was feeling rather horny this night. While making one of my routine patrols around the people's heads as they slept, I found myself unable to resist the pull of Man's fleshy forearm. What's funny is that it was the one with a big picture of a red dog on it. I rode that puppy till its face turned blue. Hah! Dogs suck, bee-atch!