The Princess is not Happy.  And you know that when I'm not happy, no one is happy at my home.   In addition to having to listen to Bob cry like a The Big Baby that he is (just because Mommy is not here), now I learned that last night my Mom and my Grammy had dinner with a real life Princess.

Well, o.k. she isn't exactly a Princess, but she is Pet Sitter of The Year, and that is close enough, because, guess what? She has A CROWN.    And it has dog bones on it.    Is this just not right?  Where is my crown? Do I have a crown?  No.  I do not.    And I want one.

Mom and Gram had dinner with this fine lady last night in a restaurant on the top of the hotel where they are all staying.    And guess what else?  The restaurant travels around in a circle.     Gram said this was actually not helpful.    Evidently it is rather hard to concentrate on your eating when the room is spinning.   

Unfortunately, my Mom and my Gram are both pretty stupid when it comes to digital items, so they have a photo graph of THE CROWN, but they haven't a clue how to get that photo graph onto my Blog.    The fine people at Pet Sitters International and The Iams Company are responsible for making some one Pet Sitter of The Year every year now for thirteen long years.   Every year, in addition to The Crown, that person gets lots of other good things.   This is, as it should be, very correct and proper.   Except for The Crown part.    I want that Crown.   

If you would like to know more about Jenn Miller, who is the person with The Crown, you can ask your mouse to take you to Doggone Purrfect Pet Care   If you live in the state of Florida near the town of St. Pete, and you have some pets who need care, you should definately ask Miss Jenn to come and take care of them.   And ask her to wear The Crown.

As for next year, I am nominating my Mom.   My Gram is too old to win anything.   And believe me, if my Mom wins, I am getting The Crown.

Love, The Princess without a Crown (or even a tiarra)
Daisy