Rosie has some serious gas tonight. In fact she’s so melodic she’s scaring herself.

She loves sitting in Grampa’s chair but tonight she thinks the chair is evil. While she was sleeping, she passed a triple syllable, loud & squeaky *pfffft* of gas, causing Jim & I to both look over at her. She was staring at her butt, trying to figure out what happened, and jumped off of the chair. She sat by me for quite awhile and continued to stare at the chair. She doesn’t trust it now, seriously.

She’s somewhat of a fraidy cat, scared of random things… lamps, boxes, baby gates… just about anything that’s out of the ordinary (ya, big mean ol’ bulldog). So when something apparently tried to pop her in the rear-end on the chair, must have been the chair.

So she’s been pacing, looking at the chair, coming back to lay by me and “pfffft’ing” frequently. They usually doesn’t make any noise but they are deadly. I think her tummy is a little upset. Should probably let her outside again.
Poor baby.