When the dog starts barking for no apparent reason it's safe to assume that he has to poop. Either that or there's a ghost in the kitchen. Since I'm obedient and loyal I take him out to do his business. I'm supposed to go to the back yard and make sure he dumps it by the edge of the woods but depending on my mood I might just take him to the front yard and hope my mother doesn't notice the shit in her garden. I took him to the back today and remembered what an awful, weedy mess that place is. In the summertime the mosquitoes go nuts back there and while I watched Peter squat in the bushes I was swarmed by little vampires. A bite on my neck, a bite on my arm and a bite on my leg. I was out there for three minutes!
I can only come to the conclusion that my blood is exceptionally tasty. And now I wait for Edward Cullen to whisk me away.