It's All About Barney

I will be glad when the weekend comes and I can sleep in. Usually Barney wakes me up around 7am, I think he is worried that I will be late for work. So, I get up and we go outside, then he goes and waits in the bathroom for me to come in and take a shower. On the weekend, I just tell him, "come on, we're going back to bed!" He gets a big smile and by the time I get to the bed, he is already sacked out in the middle so I get to sleep in the crack between the mattress and the wall.
I believe most small dogs are from another planet. They are here to dominate and enslave the human race. Especially Chihuahua's. They have that large Brain Dome and send out their brainwaves and impose their will on weak humans like myself. Notice in the picture the large size of The Dome. He probably sends back reports to his home planet while I am at work.
"I have the Large Ones completely under my control at this time. I now have four small couches for my personal use. In nice weather, they put me in a backpack designed especially for transporting me and carry me on scenic tours through the woods. The bigger of the Large Ones, brings me a glass of icewater every night while I am in bed and offers it to me for my drinking pleasure. I much prefer to drink from a tall glass then that silly ceramic water bowl painted with flying dogs they paid lots of money for. I really love the pained looks on their faces when I turn up my nose at the special meals they prepare for me because of my lack of teeth. They make sure to turn on an appropriate tv show when they have to leave me alone, little do they know I am surfing the internet using their credit cards to order more small dog stuff! Just wait, one day they will get a big box delivered from La Petite Maison." He throws back his head and gives a little evil doggie laugh.
Me and the other Large One have been thinking about getting a companion for Barney. The thing is, he is about 10 or so years old, he doesn't need a puppy to harass him. Right now his favorite toy is my oven mitt and all he does is "steal" it from me and bring it into one of his beds to nap with. Not exactly wild activity. We don't dare to wash Oven Mitt, for fear it will lose whatever essence that Barney finds so comforting. Matter of fact, Oven Mitt is now capitalized, as we talk about it like it's alive. "Have you seen Oven Mitt?" "Why no, did you check Barney's yellow bed, I saw it in there napping with him earlier..." We feel that when his best friend is Oven Mitt, it's time we intervene and look for a small, sleepy buddy for him to spend time with.