Scratch is a dog Dad brings home from a kennel far away when I'm five. He's a fox terrier and openly homosexual. He's white with brown spots here and there and a giant dot on his butt. I love to put baby powder on his rear and try to make him wear pants.
He always naps with half his body in the sunbeam at the curtained glass door. The other half hangs out in the back, so it's an easy access point. God, I love this queenie little dog who sleeps with his paws crossed all dainty. And he never snaps at any of us, no matter what we do to him.
OK, me. No matter what I do to him.
I pour the 7-Up in his water bowl because water bores me so I figure he probably feels the same. That's why I water the house plants with it, too. Scratch loves it, but the plants don't, and Mom wonders why the dog keeps getting fatter and the wandering jews keep dying.
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Scratch was, really, more of an omnisexual. Although the 7-Up did not help at all, I suspect it was The Canine Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name that did in those Wandering Jews.
ReplyDeleteNancy