“You certainly were being defiant last night.”
—To what do you refer?
“Oh, don’t go all formal on me Mr. Jump-Up-On-The-Bed-Without-an-Invitation.”
“Such an attitude, what’s happened to you? You didn’t even exit the bed when threatened with a hanger on your sorry butt.”
—It takes more than a stupid plastic hanger to frighten me.
“Are you have a mid-life crisis or something, trying to relive your rebellious younger dog years?”
—No, I’ve just adopted a Take-What-I-Deserve Strategy.
“And what brought that about?”
—If the humans with whom I abide have decided to daily send me outdoors into the cold, I figure I deserve some recompense and I don’t care how I get it. Why should you two get exclusive rights to the bed? I deserve comfort, too.
“You have your own bed.”
—A piddly pitiful pillow crammed in a corner: if I could spit, I’d shower that minuscule muffin with saliva.
“So, I guess this means you won’t be needing me to provide food or biscuits or water: you’ll just be taking them whenever and however?”
—Let’s not get hasty . . .