projection

i project, don't get me wrong. but i project vomit, and onto the floor. the woman projects too, but onto me. emotions, that is. for example, she thinks i suffer from separation anxiety. hardly. i look forward to the few moments when i can snort and fart in peace. but every time the woman has to go out, she looks like she's contemplating leaving a new born at an orphanage. "oh god, will she be okay?" she asks the guy. "you mean will she be okay for the ten minutes we're at the store buying tofurkey and gum?" he answers. "i think she'll be fine." the woman does not look convinced.

today we were at a photo shoot for some kind of holiday card they plan to send. the woman got me like a foot long, two inch thick candy cane, and let me eat practically the whole thing while the guy photographed me. pure heaven. later in the car, i heard the woman tell the guy, "i think she's upset with us. i think she feels used." "used? why?" he asked. "because she knows we only gave her the candy cane so she would pose in the picture." "that's ridiculous," he replied, "imagine if you were a pet and your owners gave you a massive cake and told you you could eat the whole thing. would you be upset?"

sucka.

here i am at the photo shoot during a moment of down time.