Lola: Mommybeast, where are you?
Me: I’m in the kitchen.
Lola: Mommybeast? Mommybeast? Mommybeast?
Me: I’m in the kitchen Lola!
Lola: Mommybeast? Mom? Mommy? Mom? Moooooooooommmmmm?
Me: I’m in the goddamn kitchen! What the hell is your problem?!?!
Me: Goddamn that puppy, what is her problem?
I start to look around and begin a panicked search.
Me: She conveniently shuts up when I am looking for her. She better not be playing hide and seek. I don’t have time for this. LOLA!
I open a closet door and out walks Lola.
Lola: You’re an asshole.
Me: How the hell did you get in there? I don’t remember going into that closet.
Lola: You opened the door and I walked in to check the perimeter since you are The President. As your Secret Service Specialist it is my duty to check for safety. Then you fucked me over. I thought you were going to party and drink booze and pass out and I’d die in the closet. Seriously, I can’t believe you’re in charge of this operation we call my life.
Me: (muttering as I walk away) I swear to God I never opened that door…damn dog’s getting clever.
Lola: (aside to the squirrels out the back door) I figured out a doorknob….watch out bitches!
My theory on why Lola did not let herself back OUT of the closet: She likes to fuck with my head. She’s part cat like that.
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