My dad leaves for Vegas Friday evening. He is leaving me for a "guys", I mean, "boys" bachelor weekend...HIS...bachelor weekend. My friend Cuffy says that it is my dad 2b's last weekend of freedom. But seriously folks, he has not been "free" since the moment he gazed into my hazel brown eyes. I mean, if by "free" you mean free to have me snuggle in the bed with him or free to pick up my poop or free to take me for a walk or free to feed (and buy) my special organic food or free to give me his plate to lick after he's finished dinner then, okay, I guess he still has his freedom.