This morning Mango set me down to give me a talkin to about my recent, ahem, "behaviors."
He indicated that my "activities" were a bit out of control and that I needed to do something quickly. Then he let me think on it.
It seems that Momma has secretly been filming me while she was at work and, well, you can see for yourself...
According to Mango, my wheelie nards are effecting my brain and causing bad behavior and he scheduled me for an emergency tutoring.
I was rushed to the operating room and given laughy gas so as not to remember the tutoring.
Was I really operated on by a one armed monkey or was that just the drugs talking?
Um, I think it WAS a one armed monkey. But I must say that I didn't feel too bad other than a bit sore when I woke up and the monkey, um, surgeon, said the procedure was a great success!
I staggered over to Mango who said he was very proud of me for being such a brave wheelie (humph, easy for him to say what with him still having his nards and all).
But frankly, I was feeling a tad dorked out and retired to the dog cave. Dexter was quite interested in the site of the tutoring (again, not a lot of sympathy given, well, Dex is what they call intact).
But he left me alone to sleep it off.
And look at me now! The Monkey in the Box and I are great pals. And I am free of those old urges (although I do wonder what became of my nards).
Hector Wheelie, over and out!