Mother claims to be suffering from an Existential crisis. Apparently, that is a century behind Romanticism, but pretty much the same thing.
Can I just have some cookies, please?
Mother has been on the fence about acquiring a new wolf. She worries that she has too many mouths and responsibilities already on her plate.
I told her the solution was simple: Sell the Donkeys
She claims I am being prejudicial, that I am always after her to dispose of them in some appropriate fashion.
True enough. Although inappropriate is fine with me, too.
Although the other day when Mother came up, the three jennys and I were standing more or less together in the Small. In reality, we were complaining about her neglect of us.
Mother, are you becoming a HOARDER?
Is one cat and one horse and three donkeys really not enough?
Just because the dog is more pleasant to take for a walk and buy toys for and snuggle with and...
No, Mother.
NO.