Monday, February 25, 2008

Lying Liars and the Lies They Tell



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Okay, lookit. If I tell you I haven't been fed, 
then I haven't been fed, goddamnit.


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Those other dogs? Laying about, acting like their bellies are full? Napping in the sunshine on the back deck?

Fucking liars.


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I ain't been fed yet.



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It's a good thing for me I speak a little Puerto Rican. THE WOMAN always listens when I throw down a little bit of "Aye, Senora, tengo muy hambre."


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"Ese hombre no me dio ningun cualquier cosa comer."


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No estoy mentiendo.



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1 comment:

LKD said...

What kind of dog is Raj? She has a very feral look in her eye. She reminds me a lot of the those wild dogs of Africa.

I've read down through this blog and I find it utterly delightful. Makes me wish keenly that I could have a dog right now. I love my cats but cats aren't dogs.

Reading about "walkies" made me smile and smile. Do you recall that severe British woman from the 70s who had that show on PBS (BBC) in which she trained people how to handle their dogs? I can still here her saying "walkies" in a high pitched voice and being all sweet and friendly with the doggies and a total bitch on wheels with the human beings.

Raj reminds me a lot of a dog my family had years ago, a beautiful silver shepherd mix that my parents brought home from the Massachusetts Humane Society. She was a sweet little puppy--if you consider sweet chewing every toy, doll, book and piece of furniture in the house when she went through that teething stage. Like Raj, she had a feral streak in her. She would growl and snap at anyone who got too close to her or her food bowl while she was eating. And there were certain people and dogs that she just wouldn't tolerate. It was usually the spooky, "off" people and dogs that made a normal person nervous too.

Damn shame she liked to take naps in the middle of the usually deserted country road we lived on on sunny days. She was hit by a car on Holy Saturday. The poor guy that hit her came to the door crying, saying he never even saw her.

She was a good dog. Feral, maybe. But good. Two years old is awfully young to die though.

Sorry I rattled on here. I love this dog blog. Brings back lots of happy memories of Tippy (the silver shepherd) and Tootsie (the biggest sweetheart of a dog I've ever known).

I miss having a dog in my life.