Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Chicken Dog Wants Respect

“Day after Day…same ole meal. What’s a dog gotta do to get some good food around here? I guess pick through the garbage. It’s not my fault Stupid Kat left the trash bag in the garage without hiding it in the trash can. Heck, the bag was at my level and that makes it fair game. And it was game of sorts…chicken. Well…What was left of the rotisserie chicken those stingy fools were eating last night. They could have shared. Geez…every time I turn around they are eating another meal. They need to start looking in mirrors.

So as I was saying…it was there for the taking…practically had my name on it…regular lunch bag with “Duncan” written in red. After all, I am a dog. What do you expect from a four-legged fellow that eats dry dog food every day of his life with a chance to eat something that two-legged humans eat?

That was one tasty bird…nice hickory bourbon flavor. Well at least it was tasty going down. Maybe I should have been aware that you’re not supposed to eat the whole thing…bones and all…but I so rarely get chicken. How’s a dog supposed to know this.

Now I’m trying to figure out why Kat is so mad at me. She’s the numbskull that left it around…she practically killed me. And I was the one moaning all night on the hard wood floor…while her lazy ass slept in her bed with that heated electric blanket she got for Christmas…all I got was some plastic chew toy.

You think Kat would have at least worried about me and stayed up to make sure I was okay. Nope. One of those bones could have perforated my esophagus or my colon. (I’m actually watching those medical dramas Kat has on and not sleeping, so I know a lot of medical terms.)

Okay, I had a little trouble keeping the carcass down so I was forced to regurgitate the bones…a little reverse peristalsis...along with some loose bowels…and she has the audacity to be mad at me. I’d like to see her eat chicken and bones and digest it without having a little discomfort and regurgitation.

I am sick ….and tired of being ‘Duncandog my good dog’ and never causing any trouble. I don’t get any respect around here…or good food. So I am always forced to beg, borrow and steal. But I can also be bribed.

Maybe if I clucked, Kat would look at me in a new way.”

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