Dog Talk
You have to wonder what dogs think of shoes. He is ready to go, and there I am trying to tie my shoes. His eyes tell the story; are you ready yet?
Then there are those nylabone chew toys. I really do not mean what I say when I step on one in the dark of the night, after he neatly places it for me at the bottom of the stairs. That is if I do not trip over him, as I come down the stairs.
And, he is tolerant of being called all sorts of names. Your dogs all have flowery names. Most of the time I just call ours Mr. Potato Head. Do not recall his true name. He seems perfectly happy with Potato Head.
Then there was the evening that two gentlemen in dark hooded sweatshirts came to the front door. I live in a quiet place, so I did not think much of it when there was a knock on the door late one night. I never will know what the young men with the masks wanted, as faster than I could think he made it from the warm fireplace across the room to the door and was four feet in the air when I caught him by the collar. He seemed very pleased with himself, and a poke around the property found no trace of them. I guess they left.
As to if they could talk. He of course does, it it just stupid me who sometimes does not understand. I guess I could ask my wife.
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