October 24, 2008

“So, why do you always run off to eat the red biscuit? Do you imagine I’ll steal it back or something?”

—I’m a modest dog and prefer to eat in private.

“Which is why you practice such shameless begging in public?”

—It’s unfortunate that to meet my caloric needs I have to resort to such behavior, but apparently there are those who think nothing of starving a helpless creature, heartlessly depriving him the food necessary to operate at optimum levels.

“So if you were fed more you’d be able to lie around sleeping even better than you do now?”

—I won’t even dignify that slur with a response.

“It’s time for a nap anyway, isn’t it?”

—As a matter of fact, I do feel a little tired . . . probably just weakness from being famished all the time.

“Undoubtedly. Have a good nap, you’ll be going outside soon anyway because I’ve got an appointment.”

—What?

“Yep, out into the cold in just a few minutes.”

—No no no no, can’t I stay in?

“Sorry, you know the rules.”

—First you starve me, then you banish me and freeze me.

“Life’s rough.”

—Yes, for a dog it’s just one trial after another.

“You’d hear music right about now, but my world’s smallest violin is in the shop.”