“that whole “blame the farts on me” thing…it’s getting old”

 

 

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we woke drunk deciding to take two doggs home with us that afternoon.  both of us excited, we drove into the countryside taking calls consistently on way to our destination, stopping occasionally to get our bearings.  meeting our man by a bridge at the foot of the mountain we continued upwards till we came to a farm by the side of a rural road.  entering the farm we saw our two purchases, one giddy and excited, eager to make a good impression and the other shy, retiring and not willing to leave home.  some small talk later and we’re on our way, wifey in the back entertaining bonnie with delaney whining by the window.

* * *

her paw was swollen and when she walked she looked drunk, stopping she stood in the mud bath which was once our garden, her tail wagging painfully at her sister stretching under the light of the morning bulb.  stumbling into dynasty she made her way to bed passing the chewed books resting on the table.  slowly making her bed, she lays down and pants and we know itz time to take her to vettie, her friend who seez her monthly.

doggs cost a lott . . .

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