Another Chien Fatale Performance

After finishing up some accounting, I went to the kitchen to get some cohwfy. When I came back, Fips was standing on the carpetted part of my office holding up a limp patito. "Fix it, please?" So I kneel down to do a patito check. Schmips is very patient. Then he decides to do chien fatale and just keels over on his side with an air of total hopelessness and passivity.

I find absolutely nothing. I go back up to the kitchen and Fips is now trying to follow, limping on three's and pathetically trying in this fashion to ascend the stairs. What drama! I tell him to sit, that I'll be right back.

I'm right back. He flops on his side again. I inspect again. He had been curled up tight in the corner of my file cabinets and I'm suspecting that his foot has simply fallen asleep. So I gently massage his shoulder joints. Fips is completely unresponsive, but then looks up and starts to kissie pooh. Well, it's hard to say, but maybe he feels better.

I suppose sleepy patito is what it was. I sure didn't feel any joints snapping into place. Anon, anon, Fips is back to normal. We drive to town where I shop. When I return to the truck, two fuzzie faces are expectantly peering out the driver-side window. The doggies get chew chips the sight of which produce a looooooooong drool from Rosco.

Back home. Fips is now now trying to interest Roscoe in pouncies. Rosco is doing his "nothing doing" sprawl. Fips is wagging his tail and poking Roscoe's ear and butt.

The evening news is blathering: "Camps..., how safe are they? What every parent should know about summer camp." Arrrrgggghhh. Mute. I count myself lucky to have the sterling artistry of Fipsie Drama

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