Hello my furiends. Noelle here. Today was supposed to be Ziggy's turn to post, but when Mom asked him if he wanted a turn to write a blog post, he said "Huh?" "Whaa?" And then he started chewing on her shoelaces, so she said I could write the post for him. I'm still not quite clear on why the fosters get to write their own posts before Remi and I do, but whenever I ask Mom, she just gives me a chew bone instead of answering, so I really don't mind so much.
So since this post is supposed to be Ziggy's turn, let me tell you a little bit about my foster brother. He's quite a handsome fella, although Mom says that is all he has going for him.
I quite admire his ability to disregard all commands, requests, instructions, and rules, and just live his life without regard for anyone or anything around him. To me, he embodies the concept of freedom. Freedom to enjoy life as it is meant to be enjoyed. No rules to follow. No people to please. No future to be concerned with. Ziggy lives for the moment, and not only does he not worry about the consequences of his actions, but he doesn't even understand that there are consequences. That, my furiends, is freedom.
The Zigster, as he is known, loves to chew. He is a chewing machine. He shredded Mom's barstool while she was sitting on it yesterday, and she didn't even realize it. She had sprayed it liberally with some no-chew spray, and she thought it was working. Obviously not.