Thursday, December 8, 2011


This is Buddy.  I just threw him a two-day-old Grands! biscuit, after first tearing it into three pieces.  Most fair-sized dogs would usually swallow each piece down pretty quick, right?  Well, Buddy picked up the first piece, the second, the third, and then he looked up at me with a mouth full of biscuit (no chewing yet!) and seemed to be thinking:

All right, what else you got?  'Cause I can fit more in here.  You saw me carrying that huge bone I drug up from the back pasture, didn't you? You know that was no normal-sized bone, right?  I saw you lift it that one time.  It was two-cats-long, at least.  And it weighed probably eight and 1/2 cats.  It was like -- I mean, what was that?  I sure as heck don't have any bones that big.  Bones...  Can't imagine I'd be able to do that cute little hoppy thing I do with a Brontosaurus femur inside me.  I'd probably have arthritis all the time and be real sad.  By the way, what's arthritis?  Is that even a thing?  Did I just invent language?  Oh, and could you get me some more biscuits? -- 'cause these are all wet now.      

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