Now that summer has given way to autumn, my perch on the stoop has given way to the couch in front of the fireplace. I have to negotiate my spot on the couch with Bruno Big-Lips, our Italian mastiff.
"Ok Bruno, I'm so sorry, but please just scrunch over a teeny bit, please... pretty please."
When I'm not negotiating with the dog, I'm apologizing to the cat.
Doublewide mewls at me every time I walk through the kitchen. "I'm sorry love, what do you need? Treats? Fresh water? A belly rub? I'm so sorry..."
When I was younger, my pets knew who was boss.
Now I'm just an old fart, wandering about the house, apologizing to the pets, who are enjoying my "golden years" much more than I am.
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