A Cold Nose in the Back

I've known people who have talked behind my back and been stabbed in the back. But I don't recall having a cold (wet) nose in the back. As I sit here writing I have a "ghost writer" behind me. Surely there is a best seller in here somewhere. Who is the "ghost writer"? Daisy has figured out how to go from the couch to the computer chair. Not into my lap but behind me. Maybe she'll become a computer geek. Couldn't be any worse than the dogs in my family who think they know everything about computers and walk on two feet. It's a good thing I don't make a habit of writing in pj's or nude. Of course I can't imagine typing in the nude. I'm sure there is someone out there who does though. But, since Daisy has discovered how to join me in the chair, it could be a little unnerving when a cold wet nose pokes me in the back. Right now, she is behind me poking her nose at me. Wonder what she is trying to tell me? Maybe she is studying to become a literary critic? Hey, so long as she brings home the big bucks. Do critics have agents? At least I don't have to worry about the POS or even a spouse over my shoulder, but a dog in the back? Maybe she has a nose for "news". More likely she just wants to go outside to see her neighbors.

Note to self...make sure Daisy does not figure out how to get under my shirt.