My Aunt B

Aunt B and I have had a very special relationship ever since I first came to live with my family.

It started with her rushing over to meet me when my family brought me home (I knew we were going to get on famously when she started gushing about how cute I was).  As 'Nanny B' she would check in on me during the day when my family was at work and taught me how to roll over on command.  She even rushed to my aid (and Sister's as well) when I tore off my first toenail at six months old (not only did she drive me to the vet, she also helped clean up the blood that had splattered all over the floor and walls).

Of course, over the years, we've had some disagreements.  You see, she and I have very different thoughts regarding drool.  She doesn't want me to drag my sopping wet chin across her nice clean pant legs; leaving "slug trails" in my wake.  I, on the other paw, see "slug trails" as a sign of affection (but I would like the record to show that I did make some attempt at reaching her half way by giving her a homemade "Sham-Drool" one Christmas and I swear, when I spent the rest of the day trying to steal it back, I was only doing so so that I could wipe my mouth and not because I wanted to rip off each individually glued on "Sham-Drool" letter that Sister had so carefully cut out of felt and glued on).  But despite our differences in opinion, Aunt B and I get along great.  So great, in fact, that a couple of days ago, when she and Sister were out shopping, Aunt B bought me a new toy--a bright orange monkey named George.

George and Me

I love my monkey toy.  I love him so much that he and I have pretty much been inseparable over the last two days (I even managed to sneak him outside this morning though Pa eventually took him away because he didn't want George to get all wet in the snow).  And speaking of getting wet, George is extremely absorbent; he's already seeped up three times his weight in drool (hey, that's what happens when you carry a toy around in your mouth all day).  Even more surprising, however, is that, despite having to be reminded repeatedly not to gnaw off his ears or tail, George is still in one piece and has not required a trip to the dreaded toy hospital.

So thank you Aunt B for buying me this awesome toy and hopefully it will still be in one piece the next time you come over (though I can't guarantee it)!