It’s a Dog’s Life . . .
ME: [Dog wanders into kitchen]. Good morning. Look who decided to finally get out of bed.
DOG: [In a grumpy mumble] Morning.
ME: Happy Thanksgiving.
DOG: Whatever. Where’s my breakfast?
ME: Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning. [Puts pot and spoon aside. Pulls dog food from the refrigerator and places it down in the dog’s dining space.]
DOG: [Looks down at his breakfast then back to me.] What is this slop?
ME: It’s your breakfast.
DOG: What are you trying to pull? I smell all those delicious aromas coming from the kitchen, but you are trying to feed me this!
ME: It’s Thanksgiving. What you smell is for the family tonight. We just a need a little food now before the big feast.
DOG: I want the feast now.
ME: Well, you will just have to wait. Eat your breakfast and reflect on all the things that you have to be thankful for.
DOG: Like what?
ME: You have a daddy that loves and takes care of you, don’t you?
DOG: He feeds me slop.
ME: Open the wine.
DOG: It’s 7:30 AM.
ME: I know.
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