We live in the Boat Yard, and No One Likes It Here

 Years ago, our floating home was lifted out of the water and moved into the boat yard. This is the place where dreams go to die.
Lagoon 380 catamaran being hauled out
The humans can't get anything right. I don't want to lay in my bed, I'll just lay on the floor, in the gravel. Don't worry about me. (See those perfectly fine blue stripes!)
 Then I noticed the dirt and decided it was time for an upgrade.
 The humans say they are working, but they spend most of their time sitting in these chairs, staring. (The blue stripes are gone. The ICW stain remains)
Here we are again, sitting in chairs, staring, coming up with new ways to inflict pain and suffering on everyone.
See what they came up with? "I know, let's empty every single locker into a huge pile, throw most of it away, and "properly" organize what's left". I bet you can't even see me amoungst the chaos. Man, my humans are the worst.
 They need more food, so stare vacantly in the pantry. Close supervision is clearly needed, since they have way too many tins of "fruit" and "vile weeds" and no chicken jerky.
The humans write lists to each other, because apparently they can't remember important things like Twix without writing it down.  I write my own desperate messages.
 Just when I thought things couldn't get any worse, "the box" appears, and I am forced to supervise from the box. Un-dignifyed.
 I was really excited when we got into a car (I love cars!) and we went on a drive. Until I noticed where we were going. Boy, do I hate those tiled places where people poke you with needles. "It's for your own good, old chap", they say. You know what would be for my own good? Chicken wings. Which brings me to another point. The humans can't be bothered to cook anymore, so we're all stuck eating kibble.

The only part of the day which is any good is the end part. They turn on the tele, and I finally get a break. You can even see the bandages on my poor little arms where the otherwise nice seeming people did bad things to me.
Feel sorry for me yet? Good. Send chicken and a house that floats!

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  1. Hastings - you write the best blog posts! I feel so sorry for what you. Life is rough when you're stuck with such silly humans. I think it's time for a mutiny.

    1. It's really ruff. I think they are actually up in the night researching ways to torture me! A mutiny would be good, but then I'd have to do things like sailing and cooking. I just need some magic to get them to start cooking again. And stop breaking things so we can leave. A more competent crew could have finished this work weeks ago!

  2. Yes, Hastings! I feel sorry for you! Send me a text with your location and I'll come rescue you straight away. We can go to Costco on our way back and buy lots of dog treats-- in bulk!

    1. Bulk treats! Now you are talking! Fianlly someone who appreciates me!

  3. Poor Hastings. Poor humans. Happy Independence getting a facelift and full-time attention! So much fun to throw excessive stuff away and create space for more food!

    1. It's really fun to rediscover lost items - like jeans, in preparation for fall weather!


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