Before we get started I’ll have you know that Lafonda is one of Leroy’s nicknames given by husband. We’ve got, Lafonda, La-roy, and La-bastard that are going on right now.
We change things up weekly. You know, to keep it nice and confusing.
Anyway, Leroy’s grudge holding remains fully intact as of Mondays’s post and I fear that I am only making things worse but I can’t stop. It’s one of those situations where I’m damned if I do and damned if I don’t.
Yesterday morning he tried howling in my face again to wake me up and and in the middle of trying to ignore him I rolled over in my bed and accidentally, I swear it was an accident, kicked him in the nose. This led to him sneezing and stomping out of the bed room and having another argument with the cushions, which I secretly think he was pretending were me.
Then breakfast time rolled around and he came into the kitchen all ready and willing to eat until I put the food bowls down and then he just sat their and stared at me.
So I stared back.
Then I thought maybe he didn’t like where his food bowls were anymore so I moved them.
And he continued to stare at me.
So I moved them back.
Then Sherman finished his food and went outside.
I closed the door behind Sherman and told Leroy he wasn’t going to go outside until he cleaned his bowl.
And he sat and stared at me.
So I went about my business.
And he continued to stare.
Then I walked to the fridge and opened it up and he stuck his head in and grabbed the left over steak that was sitting in there from the night before. (It was under plastic wrap, he lifted it up and took out a small piece)
Walked it over to his bowl and ate it and all his food.
I kid you not.
I was in a state of shock.
The dog is not La-bastard, he’s a frickin La-genius.