She seems lazy and out of shape. Seems. I have been fooled many times, and yet I do not learn. She will puff and huff when she greets you at the door, like as if it’s sooo much work. Jumps up and down a couple times, wags the tail, barks for good measure, then goes back and lies down. She sleeps the day away. Sleeps the night away. Might make a big show of growling and snapping while being shoved out of her chosen spot on the sofa if you are silly enough to attempt it.
How then can this selfsame lazy animal shoot out the front door like a bullet and yank my arm (ripped right off and reattached daily at the shoulder…) halfway up the block at the speed of light just to suddenly stop dead in a powdery fluffle of snow and unload a pile of crap large enough to make an elephant proud?
How can she even carry all that crap at that speed? More like a laden swallow. Then she will dance a further ten blocks, sniffing and snuffing and rolling her nose gleefully around in Dog only knows what foul and unmentionable…oh, the complete and utter joy of being a dog.
But for the foulness, I wish I could be her for a day. Hell, a week. In fact, if it wasn’t for the fact that dogs cannot own money and do their own shopping, I’d come back in my next life as someones spoiled rotten lickyfaced lap puppy. Guaran-fuckin-teed. Bring me another treat, slave.
And snap to it or the new rug gets it.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment