A Short Story Not Necessarily For Children : "The D*mn Dog"

I have a dog named Pepper. It is a brown toy poodle. It is very special. Pepper knows nifty tricks like how to hold in your pee until you're let out of the bathroom so you can pee in places that are difficult to clean. She is honing that skill now by peeing a little bit on the paper in the bathroom to con people into letting her out so that she can go pee in places that are difficult to clean. You see, the trick is to know the proper ratio of pee to use as the diversion and storing up the remaining amount of pee for a 'puddle effect' in those hard-to-reach, hard-to-clean places. She secretly calls it "Mission: Make Grace Clean The Floor On Her Hands And Knees Repeatedly Everytime She Lets Me Out To Play. Muahaha."

Just before the act...

...and right after, she'll run like a lunatic for the safety of the bathroom in self-punishment whilst smirking in the pride of a successful mission (note slightly evil unrepentant smirk).

Also, my dog Pepper enjoys a steady diet of newspaper, toilet paper and anything that moves- like bugs and hairs on the floor blown around by wind. She has more toys than I do and gets bored of them at an alarming rate. I love dog. Especially in a soup or a quiche. Maybe quiche- need to buy eggs and flour then.

The End

I've never asked for a dog in my life. Not that I didn't want one, only that I knew my mother hated large-ish animals. So it was hamsters, fish and the occasional turtle. What's an occasional turtle, you might ask? Well, it looks just like any other turtle, but its only there occasionally. But I digress... back to what this post is really about- th' dumb dog. (It just peed all over the floor and I had to wipe the hall. Again. Can you tell?) Anyway- guess what my mother asks for last mother's day? Now, I daren't call my dad in case he asks for a horse or something.

Aw, I don't mind the dog-ler... just frustrated that I actually might have to give the excuse of needing to go home early and 'feed the dog' someday. At least I've never given the 'water my mother's plants' excuse as of yet. Heh. Terasa or not, Ange? Pepper's really not a dog- she's a cat-pig-baby sort of creature. I'd call her a cat, 'cept that cats are way cleaner. She actually sulks and refuses to look at you if you offend her. She rubs herself all over your legs. She pounces. I mean- if I wanted a danged cat, I'd have gotten a cat. I like cats, but not a dog who prances about like a feline hopped up on catnip.

Now I gotta go let her out to play 'cause I've cooped her up in the bathroom all day.