Log 6

Did I ever mention dogs have an innate hate for confined spaces, leashes, collars, belts and other various kinky sundries (of which I currently seem to have ample amounts.) The more you know.

In other news, the Commander has finally defeated the infernal seat belt and is now trying to find the leak aboard the ship, wherever it might be lurking. 

At least, I think it’s what it’s doing. Otherwise I have no idea how to translate, “dekcuf er'ew detceted ton kaeL .kael rof gnihcraeS”

I never quite asked myself how exactly are we going to fix that leak? We can’t just stick a finger in there and hope it’ll hold. I’m sure my super-duper advanced AI Commander has some bright idea in its computer head. It was designed to think shit up.

Right?

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Getting there.

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Think I just heard the Commander blurt out ‘kcuf!” - sounds like the repairs are well underway! 

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I’m getting fossilized here man; step on it!

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Want a joke? I don’t want to go to the Moon: the Moon is for washouts and losers. I wanna go to Uranus instead! Get it? Ur-anus?

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Woke up all bright-eyed, bushy-tailed and ready to go (which I did right here in my fancy million-dollar diaper!) The robot was still being its former self though. Why am I not surprised? 

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Three thousand and five, three thousand and six, three thousand and seven…

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[snoring]

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What doesn’t make any sense is how some humans tend to believe sticking a dog’s face in a pile of their poo would teach us not to crap on their floors anymore - what a load! 

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What does the [data removed] robot mean by ‘mrala eslaF’? 

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System malfunction detected. False alarm. All personnel return to normal routine.

That’s what they just said on the intercom. Great - there was no air leak after all! Just an error in the ship’s brains. 

Figures.

At least the robot had the decency to doff my helmet and let me outta my seat.