Listen, you little shit–
You do not get to decide when Mommy is done walking you. Mommy decides that. And if Mommy says, “Happy–I need to get out of the 105 degree weather so that I don’t pass out in the ghetto portion of our neighborhood,” then you need to step in line, bro.
And just because you may not like our walk ending early, just because this doesn’t serve your little poodle needs with your 3-4 walks a day and your 3 hours of non-consecutive green squeaky toy fetching—DOES NOT MEAN YOU GET TO PUNISH ME BY ROLLING IN DEAD FROG GUTS WHEN I TURN AROUND FOR TWO SECONDS.
Meaning of course that I get to work an extra hour because I have to stop, drop and douse you in several handfuls of puppy shampoo and hot, road-kill cleansing water.
Goodbye spoons–I knew ye well…
VERY LIKELY CANCELING THAT ORDER FOR HIMALYN DOG BONES FROM AMAZON – already shipped.
Your Wet, Spoonless, Migrane-y, Disgruntled Mommy
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