Thorny Trails and a Man Who Wants My Baby

Shane After the Fall.
(He's thinking of taking up Latin. Dogus smartus.)

There’s a trail that cuts through a clump of woods near the house. Sounds nice, huh? Well, it could be nice, but the people throw their garbage there. And not just the usual MacDonald’s cheeseburger wrappers or Wendy’s French fry containers or Big Burger's Styrofoam cups—they throw tree limbs and nasty plastic bags filled with things so stinky that they burn my nose. I mean, I like a good strong smell just like any other dog, but this is could make a skunk run for cover.

We used to cut through the trail all the time, only now it’s hard to make it over all the tree branches and rotting putrid things. But, today, we did cut through, because I was just too hot and tired to go all away around Cape Horn at the end of the road. Besides, the trail comes out right across the street from Buddy’s house, and I wanted to see if he was still alive behind the new white plastic fence.

Well, poor Shane tripped and fell into a hole; Joan’s new “Inspi(red)” t-shirt got caught on the thorns and so did her finger. Wow, can her blood drip. I had a little trouble too, but I was walking behind Shane and Joan, so they kind of beat down the path for me.

Then we met a nice man who wanted to know if I could have babies. When Joan told him no, he said that if he couldn’t have my baby, he would like to have a dog just like me. Imagine that!

Shane didn’t feel at all jealous. He was contemplating his embarrassing fall, and he just sat and stared at Joan and panted. Not me; I sat and smiled at the nice man.

Joan told him he could find a nice dog at the animal shelter. And then, just to be sure he wasn’t thinking of tying anyone up for life, she told him New York State was going to pass a law making it a crime to tie a dog up for more than three hours a day. “Hurray,” I thought, quietly thinking about the dogs who live without life.

If it hadn’t been for the heat, the garbage, and the thorns, it would have been a perfect walk.

Best wishes, Juno

P.S. to Owen Johnson (R-4) and Charles Fuschillo (R-8): You are going to pass that law, right?