The bubble over Ben's head

5:15 A.M.

Coffee? You're really going to have a cup of coffee before we go for a walk? 
Un - flippin' -- believable.

Daylight's burnin', sister.

* canine eye roll * 
Yeah, sure. I want to sit outside. Like I want my nails clipped, fool. 

While you have coffee, check your blogs, comment on Facebook and play Words with Friends?

Like yeah. I REALLY want to sit outside.

Maybe if I look sad and pathetic, hanging over the back door riser.

Good god, the things a dog must do for a walk around here. 

There MUST be another way.

Ummm. Just checking the weather stripping.

Unless you've got something else in mind?

I smell gas. Activate home evacuation plan.

To Comstock Park.

Wait. . .  wait. . . wait. I hear the rustle of poop bags. 

And she's getting those goddawful tennis shoes on. 

Must we always look like we just stepped out of "The Grapes of Wrath"?

* canine sigh *

I shall prance around and bark.

Bad idea. 

I look like a freakin' tribble.

Default to adorably desperate.

Time to rally the troops. Let's get this wagon train a' movin', little missy.

Note to self: Tongue photo bombs are so unbecoming.

I look like friggin' Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer.

ANN-NN-NNNNN-NNNND

I'm outta here.

See you in the Promised Land. Arrivederci, baby!