“But you were wrong!”
Yes, I was, Abby Dearest. Abby has traveled all over the country with me and I couldn’t have asked for a better traveling companion.
“Yeah? That’s not what you said when that thunder boomer boomed and I jumped purt near through the roof and landed on top of your head while we were driving up and down and all around those twisty turny mountain roads and–”
On second thought, maybe I could have asked for a better traveling companion. Or, at least, for a dog that didn’t talk —
“That’s better! What are we writing about tonight, mom?”
We are not writing about anything, Abby Dearest. You are going to bed.
I’ll be right behind you. Gonna crank up my trusty and beloved Scrivener and work on some ideas I have for our new blog. Right after I post a very special pic of you when you were just a tiny wee bairn.
“I was a bear?!”
(Sometimes I wonder how I can bear it. Sigh.) Say good night, Abby Dawg.
“Good night, Abby Dawg. See ya in the morning!”