Mood: Do(d)gy mood
[Toot!] Index: 0.2
Communism Bit: Off
As penance for the length of the last post, I'll make this short. But I'm still up to my jaws in bile, so I'll spit yet. At dogs, this time.
They lie to you when they tell you dogs don't forget. I went to that gate yesterday, and it just barked at me. Vicious barking, with intention to rip me jugular out.
Wasn't it I who recognised its mother dead by the roadside? Wasn't it I who, while its mother's blood still flowed and cars still stopped to look at the mangled dog body, initiated a plan to save the stray family's puppies?
Wasn't it my brother and I who carried the little puppies and distributed them to families? Wasn't it I who kept it (with Scooby as the working name) for the few days when it had nobody to take it in? Didn't I give it off my own plate until we threw it into that same gate? Who waited until the people behind the gate weren't going to be the thirty-fourth set to throw the puppy back out before he left? Didn't I check some days later and see it there, fed and at rest? Didn't I silently celebrate with it? Didn't it remember me, when I sneaked in and stroked it a few times?
And now, guess who has forgotten. :o( Way to say Thank you. Cool. I'll get me a new favourite-dog-that-isn't-mine.