Fruitfly Wonderdogs

One Sunday afternoon, I decided to sit on the back porch to blog and write in my journal.

I had been feeling funky (allergies were kicking my proverbial butt, and my real one, too!) but thought I just needed some “outside time.”

Out I went, in my pajamas.  I grabbed a blankie, my iPhone, my MacBook.  ThatManILove had brought me a chai tea latte.

I was set.

And then, something I read flung a craving upon me...for an orange.

I unwrap, pad into the kitchen, grab an orange.  Peel it.  

I look down.

Zack is drooling, Zanna looking all expectant.

Yup.  

I pad back to my chair.  Wrap all back up in my blankie.  Computer on my lap.  Get all set.

I look left of my chair, where I am so wonderfully ensconced.
Zack is drooling, Zanna looking all expectant.  Again.  What part of this did they not get?  Grrrrrrrr.

It turns out that they’re orange-tarians.

But at least they sit while they’re getting their treats.

I lost a full half of my orange to them.  My weirdo, fruitfly dogs.