Nobody is here except us blooms unless you come to exculpate a favorite friend who certainly did *not* tear up your garden whilst burying marrow bone.
If I am here–which I am not, I have a doctor’s note prescribing climatotherapy. This is Fiji, right? I have been told to rest my front, right digging paw’s third toe.
Oh, please feel free to select any of these floral mates for your bouquet, but I could not be removed from my state of zen-happiness with a disselboom attached to a herd of birds.
Do not think that a pal for whom you generally feel fondness would scienter rearrange your patch of pretty and, then, hide from possible repercussion. Let me know, though, if you come to warmly hold instead of coldly scold; in that case, I might be here. ; )