Still hanging with Pops

Papa is the man. Master of the barbecue. We are getting along just famously without Mama. I miss her but, she does not cook like Papa does. I got my priorites alright.
Me and Papa slept in and then we went outside, ran around the backyard for a bit, I pooped, I peed, we went inside, I ate, he ate, I ate what he was eating and it was great Papa / Dogter bonding time. My Papa really loves me and sings little songs to me when he thinks nobody is listening. He sings off key sometimes but, I'll take him over Mama bellowing out a tune when she has her walkman on and thinks she sings as good as Mariah Carey.
Not quite.
Tired from bonding. Must rest on Mama's side of the bed. While I can.
Bye.