So you turned your dog bed into clouds of useless fluff the other day. In the kitchen, where you had dragged it while I was at work. I dealt with it by ordering pizza to deal with my immediate problem of needing to make dinner, and then tackled the project of locating the kitchen floor. I discovered in the process that you had emptied my trash can and hidden most of the contents under the ruins of your bed. This was not the grossest mess I've ever had to clean up, but it was one of the grossest not involving, uh, previously digested organic material.
On top of that, since I haven't purchased a new bed for you since then, you decided today while I was trying to gather my dirty laundry from the bathroom for a washing that you would take an afternoon nap in my half-full laundry basket. I hate to break it to you, dog, but that laundry basket is not meant to hold 80ish pounds of Labrador. It is my big laundry basket and you almost fit in it, but...not quite. Not only do you look funny, but since you kept mommy from doing laundry earlier, mommy has to do laundry now, since you're finally done napping.
Also, you are barking for no good reason right now.
Remind me why I buy you dog food again?