From Fanciful Friends Vanessa's Journal January 1
January 1
10 a.m.
Middle of the night stuff. Marianne brings home a new dog. He's small, furry - a hot dog with pointy ears. He's about three months old but fully paper-trained.
"Shut up, Champ." Marianne introduces me to the new man in the house. She picked him up at the party.
"He's like real AKC," she says.
My stomach growls. And I ask Marianne what there is for breakfast. The mutt looks up as if he understood what I said; there isn't any cereal or bread, and we are out of milk again.
"If you drank coffee, you wouldn't be so grumpy," she says.
"He eat anything?" The kitchen floor has never looked cleaner. The dog runs around the table licking up bits of sausage from leftover pizza and jingles. (He came with a collar and tags). And just to irritate her, I call him Belchamp.
10 a.m.
Middle of the night stuff. Marianne brings home a new dog. He's small, furry - a hot dog with pointy ears. He's about three months old but fully paper-trained.
"Shut up, Champ." Marianne introduces me to the new man in the house. She picked him up at the party.
"He's like real AKC," she says.
My stomach growls. And I ask Marianne what there is for breakfast. The mutt looks up as if he understood what I said; there isn't any cereal or bread, and we are out of milk again.
"If you drank coffee, you wouldn't be so grumpy," she says.
"He eat anything?" The kitchen floor has never looked cleaner. The dog runs around the table licking up bits of sausage from leftover pizza and jingles. (He came with a collar and tags). And just to irritate her, I call him Belchamp.
Comments
Post a Comment