—So, it’s true? You might be staying home more?
“Yes, it’s a possibility, but not all day like it was during the Dark Days of Unemployment.”
—Dark Days . . . ? . . . I thought it was a most excellent arrangement.
“I’m sure you did.”
—Only recently have the days been less than sunny, what with more exile time in the back-stinkin’-yard.
“And we know whom to blame for the stink.”
—As I’ve noted before, it’s not my fault that you confine me and my excremental needs; I’m perfectly willing to roam free and deposit my . . . deposits elsewhere.
“Granted, but there’s a leash law in this area and we’re not convinced you could find your way home, even if there weren’t.”
—Again with the insults: why did I imagine you staying around longer in the morning would be a good thing?
“I have no idea.”
—As far as finding my way home, I know where my biscuits reside . . . and speaking of biscuits, you could easily absolve yourself of your cruelty by liberating one, or two.
“Two? My, haven’t you become ambitious.”
—A dog’s gotta do what a dog’s gotta do.