azkadellia

So Roger is bathed, and I think I have everything put together for tomorrow. I don't, because I never do, but I think I do. I am exhausted. I don't think I've ever had a dog so difficult to bathe. Now he's trying to figure out this thing called house life. He can't get comfortable, and he's nervous. He thinks TV is pretty cool though. He's way mad at me. He wouldn't go outside, so now he's in the crate.

I'm fucking hungry and tired.