Bonding...I don't care for it.

It seems that my blogging has been infiltrated and ever since I put my "siblings" up for adoption we've started doing bonding exercises.

My parents have gotten it into their heads that if we can't do physical exercise as a family while I recover then we can do mental exercises together. Hmm...I would like to veto!

Here is one of the sessions I was forced to participate in today. The three of us were put on the blanket (which was given to us by my Grandma Olga!) and we had to stay there without getting up, trying to leave or chewing on the blanket (Dottie!) until my parents gave us the release command. While reluctant to participate in this endeavor I do feel like I did the best. Naturally.

After this we also had to listen to the doorbell without barking (why have a doorbell then???) and sit still while the door was open without running out (maybe you should keep it closed then if you want this to be a prison!). Each time I excelled at the challenges even though I do object to them on principle. How did the others do? Well, I'd rather not embarrass them in such a public setting so I will remain silent, but as you can see one of us even fell asleep. I mean how hard can it be to stay on a blanket when you're unconscious? Obviously one of us didn't grasp the concept very well, or understand that you're suppose to stay awake so it can be challenging. That's just me, but I'll let you be the judge.

Hopefully my parents have gotten all this bonding nonsense out of their system and they can let me get back to what I do best (recovering on my beds, keeping out intruders and ignoring those I deem beneath me).

Flash's Tip of the Day:
If you want me to bond with you get me a snack, don't take up my blanket space.