I sought to remedy the situation by asking for a kind donation of an ottoman. I had seen some Weimaraner friends in the US of A with one and, boy, did I like the look of them (the Weim ladies, too, ahem). No point in asking the STAFF for one. As you know THEY are more tightfisted than seems humanly possible..... Anyway, I asked for a donation, and whilst I had an assurance that someone had very kindly sent one it has not arrived yet. I think it is the old "cheque's in the post chestnut".
The only other option was to make it very clear to the STAFF that I was not comfortable anywhere. Whilst THEY are tightfisted as anything in buying me even the smallest bit of luxury, like say, a room sized ottoman (I mean, hello, it's even called Otto!)...anyway, whilst THEY would not buy me even the smallest bit of luxury THEY are total suckers for buying anything that's healthy or wholesome in some way.
So, before you know it, THEY arrived back from the pet store, not with the ottoman I had asked for, but with some memory foam bed number. Apparently the ultimate in pet luxury and comfort you could ask for. As you can see, I am not so sure....Yes, it is supportive. Yes, it is comfy. Yes, it is wholesome and healthy and my back doesn't hurt. But, is it fun? Nope, not one bit.
Thankfully, I could convey that message and make it very clear that one memory foam bed was not enough. So, THEY ordered me a second one of the interweb. In the meantime, I hunted and killed a soft furred creature and when the bed arrived I covered it in the pelt of my own kill. Now, that is fun!
As you can see, I feel like the Lord of the Manor, nay, like the King of the World, whilst lying on the memory foam cored furry goodness! Ah, I am regal!
Trouble is, when I was sleeping, Larry 'Bad Ass Attitude' Lamb crept up on me and totally pushed me off my bed. That dented my hunter's pride somewhat....
And this is my favourite. Apparently, I look like Hugh Heffner. Cool, now where's my bunnies?
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