The Ill Typist and Welcome Back

I would like to start by wishing Yeu All a berry Habby San Jacinto Day and all so fur my Aggie friends, a berry safe and meaning full Muster.

I haff been absent fur sum few what feel like berry many days on a counta The Typist hass been quiet ill. She hass not did many doings. She hass not fought many foughts. And she hass not said many sayings, though the sayings she hass said, she hass said ober and ober. And all so ober a gain but I digress...

Welcome back!

When I last left Yeu, I habbs juss showed Yeu my mannerly Trolley Day Celebration. And all so, my cookies.

And now here is all most ebbery single fing what I habbs been doing since that wonder full day:

Teusday was Skool Day!

The Mom The Typist The Trainer did naught feel good naught one bit at all, but she know how much I lubbs it and she buck up and take me there.

It wass a pretty good night, but it hass been a pretty bad week so I can naught remember much a bout it. I do know I jumped some jumps when the Trainer said "Over" and den I ran straight teu her which is what she wanted me teu deu. *takes bow*

Then we went home and fings started going all wrong and by next day fings had gone VERY ALL WRONG. The Typist was FURRY ILL, bed (this one) ridden, and I had be come a nurse.

Here is how I did it. It's a king bed and Yeu are lookin at teu furds of it. Uh huh, I napped wif her. I all so maid rounds and guarded the perry menter.

Wif the regyeularity...

I check kitchen counters. I watch the stuff out the front window. I check kleenex bocks then waist bass kits then baff reum counters then...  I fump blinds on the back door. I stare at the Mom. I sigh. I sigh. And I SIGH.

I all so deu odder stuff teu but these is the main fings what I deu.

Then one day, off the deaf bed The Mom The Typist a rise and she gibbs me a rocket.



I played and played and played wif it and then I finally ett it and come back to the big bed to be the nurse.

I gave it my all.

Yes yes fur all of Yeu Wheu deu the maff and all so the gee ahh my tree... I deu tend teu take my haff outta the middle.

What?

The Typist is feeling a good bit better teu day, but I am fear full that she hass oberly done fings. Whee habbs had men here cutting up a big chunk ob our ash tree what fell in the street in yesterday's storms. Whee hass all so warshed and dried all the beddings and put it all back teu gether a gain.

It is few fings fur the me but it is berry many fings for the Typist. Now she is peuped and here is me hoping she gets back up teu deu more stuff teu morrow!

Fank Yeu for coming back to my little blog. Welcome Back!!!