Morris: On Remodeling

I don't understand this thing called a house remodel. It doesn't make any sense to me at all.
Every day strange guys come and park all over the place with their trucks.
They make noise.

Hammer, slam, bang, bang, hammer, laugh, talk, hammer some more.

The only part of the day I enjoy is when they are all gone and I go hunting around to where they eat lunch at the picnic table and find little scraps of what they dropped.

I am getting most excellent at doing this.  NOW, if she would let me be loose during the day, I could run around to all these guys and give them the Morris Look.  They would hand me treats and stop work.
She says I'd be in their way and since they are using hammers, saws, and other dangerous type stuff...I must not bother them.

I have found the most comfortable place to be is away from the noise and on the new porch in my crate.  

I can warn everyone when another vehicle arrives and I can take little cat naps.

Even my place where I went out to pee and do my other business every day is ... Gone!
I guess I shouldn't feel so bad.  It is even worse for her and Grumpy Gus.
They don't even have a toilet.

Grumpy can go outside like me and pee on a tree, but She has to go to the outhouse.
Sometimes it does pay to be a dog!

Grumpy Gus has disconnected the heater to the house. 

This morning it is downright chilly in the house.  She put on an extra sweatshirt and I was kind enough to crawl into her lap and keep it warm.

That is, until I decided the couch was a better option. I could cuddle with my red blanket and the microwave oven.

Yes, I said the microwave oven.

She has NO kitchen at all right now.  They tore everything out yesterday.

That means She doesn't have to cook. I think She likes that part. 
But maybe not.... last night She sounded like she was already tired of eating pizza and burgers.

She says I will not recognize the house when I can go through the plastic.

I wonder.

So I lay on the living room floor and wonder for a moment. I can't think about things too long, it wears me out.

But if only SHE would remember where She put the dog treats.

I would be much happier you know.

Well, time to wait for the guys with lunch stuff to show up.
I hope they bring ham sandwiches and drop on the ground under the picnic table.