September 10, 2009

“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.”

—Bah. So?

“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 . . .