Hello fellow doggie mates, what does the lottery mean to you? It's pretty hilarious if you ask me. Today, the numbers to my dog license appeared in the draw (2052, for the hooman readers if any) and the hoomans went bananas. Not because they won. They forgot to buy.
And the thought of them correlating my good bowel movements to me giving them a sign of fortune never fails to tickle. How can you equate crap and gold? Besides, it's just the brown rice.
To me, weekend retreats (more on these in the upcoming posts) are like lotteries. Everything upsizes. The bed, the playing space. The spread of food, the frequency of meal times. Our waistlines.
Eat outs are like lotteries. There aren't many pet cafes left in Singapore. Pawtobello, the last decent cafe closed down last year. Walkabouts at the Botanic Gardens these days are like lotteries. It's been too long since our last stroll in the park. *hint*
With the Lunar New Year approaching, so is that jumbo lottery draw. I'm wishing the hoomans hit the jackpot and everyday will be lottery day for me and doofus.