All over my computer, the keyboard, the trackball, my papers—dog hair, dog hair everywhere. Now that I think about it, an interesting Dr. Seuss-like poem / short book for kids might be possible using this theme . . . hmmmm. Lewis is already thinking about royalties and is demanding I take dictation as he draws up the necessary papers.
Warming to the project, Lewis suggests that with every copy of the book “Dog Hair Everywhere,” a small sample of actual dog hair could be included, say, in a little plastic bag attached to the inside of the back cover.
—Deluxe copies of the book would include my very own hair.
“Even a modest number of deluxe copies would leave you as bald as Kojak.”
“Forget it. Besides, it’s fur, not hair.”
—What’s the difference? Besides, rhyme over truth, that’s my motto.
“Yeah, so I’ve heard. Hey, put down those sunglasses: you aren’t a celebrity yet.”
—But I need to go bark at Mikey and the sun hurts my eyes.
[Editor’s Note: Mikey is the annoying, always-barking, Napoleon-Complex-Suffering dog that lives next door.]