She is a stubborn dog, though, and like most creatures who prefer to be in control, she does not like being stoned, so when she was halfway into the kitchen to eat the cat's food when the drugs kicked in, she just sort of sank to the floor with a whimper, and fell asleep.
"The doge melted, gotta get her back in the fridge," said Katie, hoisting Coco's limp, peaceful body into the bedroom and laying her gently on the floor.
"404, doge not found," I said.
One year ago: Not Their Type
Two years ago: Creative
Three years ago: All In My Head
Four years ago: And Done a Better Job, Too
Five years ago: So Apparently We Bought A Banjo