A Small, Furry Tornado Keeps Landing Here
I left my place yesterday for thirty minutes. In jest, I told him not to “destroy the place while I was gone, ha ha.”
When I came back I found one of my flip flops extruded into hundreds of pieces on the floor. I thought we had a verbal agreement.
That’s the thing with this dog — he doesn’t listen to reason. I make very good, strong cases for my position but he completely ignores them.
It’s like living with a junkie — he’s a great guy for the most part, but every now and then he takes a stroll into madness. But instead of selling your iPod to buy drugs, he’ll just eat it. Also, he’ll try to bury his drugs in your couch. Which is what some junkies do too, I suppose.
I have to find things for this guy to do. Things to keep him busy. It’s like being a cruise director for a shark.
Happy Fourth! Say what you will about America, but at least we don’t have to make sure our chicken eggs are real. U-S-A! U-S-A!
My Work in Print
Year Zero
Available from Samuel French and Amazon.com
Cowboy Versus Samurai
Available from Samuel French and Amazon.comFor a complete list of books containing my work, please click here.
One Comment
well, at least the junkie didn’t svap your iPod for a Gayby and name it OJ.