MRS. PELACHEWSKY WAS NOT AMUSED

I should preface this story with the simple fact that I love my stinky little puppy nephew Bosco with a white hot love that rivals that of the surface of the sun. I mean it. I really do. Bosco and I have a very special bond because when he was a very tiny little guy I would go over to Aunt Chrissy's house to check on him and he invariably greeted me from his nylon travel cage covered in poop.

Bosco has a face and a personality that make you want to carry on long conversations with him. He is curious about everything, and if the dog could talk (which I'm pretty sure he can, but shyness prevents him from doing so), he would use words like "cool" and "dude". Bosco is all boy and plays and romps and barks and jumps with abandon. Then he comes inside panting and smelling like a little two year old who is sweaty and wants a juice box.

I love him. I really do.

Today, however, convinced me that there is a camera somewhere in the universe capturing my every move so that if "The Truman Show" ever has a sequel, I will be the star. I swear that I hollered enough today to last me a lifetime, and if I said "ARE YOU EFFING KIDDING ME??!!!! one more time I was going to wash my own mouth out with soap.

Bosco decided that today would be the day that he would RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN from the front of the house to the back of the house and that he would BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK at every damn thing that came within an eight mile radius of Aunt Chrissy's lovely little abode.

(You should probably know that Stewey arrived at Aunt Chrissy's half asleep and promptly curled up in a patch of sunshine for a nap. All. Damn. Day. Long.)

I figured that little Bosco would calm down after a few minutes and that he was just happy and excited that his Aunt CJ had come to play for the day, but after the fourth hour I called Aunt Chrissy at work to advise her that Puppy Day Care was not going to have a very good report for the little fellow and that if she didn't come directly home after work she was going to find me face down in a pie and minus one dog.

The good news is that nothing was broken and no animals were injured in the filming of today's episode, so I'm pretty sure that we'll be raring to go again tomorrow. Aunt Chrissy will be here at 8:00.

Stewey has asked if he can stay home. I'm seriously considering letting him and hiding in my closet until she leaves, thinking that I've finally flown the coop and am on my way to Jeffrey Dean Morgan's house.

Stay tuned. I'll have pictures for you soon of progress on Lily Frog, I promise. I'd gladly share them now, but methinks it's time to go find a pillow and a Valium (and not necessarily in that order.)