At about four a.m., Rick and I both awoke to the sound of Dude singing. I looked down at the foot of the king-sized bed and there he was, ON THE BED, with his big stuffed-dog toy that I lovingly christened "Girlfriend", humping and singing to her. Yes, he was dutifully emasculated at six months of age (or whenever it was that the vet recommended we have it done) but he has retained this one boycat behavior. Thankfully he doesn't do any of the other ones.
"Are you KIDDING me?" Rick said. He'd only been in bed about thirty minutes since getting home from work.
For the past couple of weeks, I've had to get up several times a night to go to the bathroom (I'm thinking I've got some inflammation of the digestive tract but I'm not sure of the source), so I hopped up, grabbed Girlfriend and tossed her into the living room. Dude followed her blithely. I closed the door so he could be alone.
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