June 3, 2009

“So, we had a little accident last night?”

—What?

“The dog barf on the rug.”

—Oh, that. Yeah. Sorry. Though the fault lies with you.

“How’s that?”

—You starve me so much, I’ve been reduced to eating grass like . . . like a cow. And the grass upset my stomach.

“Wait a minute. You’d eat grass anyway. All dogs eat grass.”

—Perhaps, but I’ve been forced to eat far more grass than normal because of the hunger pangs I suffer nearly every minute of every day.

“I see. So, I should be apologizing to you?”

—No, that’s not necessary, but a little increase in my rations would be appreciated.

“I’ll discuss it with She With Whom You Abide, but don’t get your hopes up.”

—How about a biscuit to tide me over?

“Don’t push it.”