Shush bad human! You guys derserve the truth here. I did not leave the monkey outside. I love my monkey with all my doggeh heart. In fact, I was curled up on the couch, giving the monkey love bites, when Couch comes in with a bowl of brocolli smothered in vegan chili and turns on old reruns of Love Boat. I should have bit him for that. I was watching Meer Kat Manor, which I love, but then again, who doesn't? Am I right?!
Anyway, so Love Boat is on and Couch is munching on his brocolli like there is no tomorrow, chewing with his mouth open as usual, bits of food and spittle are flying everywhere, and then it happens. It gets silent, Couch hunkers down and his muscles tense, and then you guessed it, flatus eruptus maximus. Yep, he let fly with a vile stench that would gag a maggot. I had no other choice than to bite him, so I did. Tough love. If I do not discipline him, he will never learn right from wrong.
So anyway, Fart Boy (okay, that was wrong, I do not really want to resort to name calling) jumps up, grabs my monkey, walks to the front door, tosses the poor monkey into the night, slams the door, storms off to his bedroom, grabs his phone, passive agressively storms outside and snaps a picture of monkey in the grass, and then after a bit more door slamming and muttering, heads off to his computer, which can only mean lies on Foo or watch porn, the wrist kind you guys, not the other. Turns out it was both.
Now you know the truth and my paws are tired, so I am going to go pee in Couch's shoes and then take a nap.