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Wit's End


It’s a Dog’s Life . . .


DOG: [Jumps on me.] Gimme a treat

ME: No.

DOG: [Wants Out. Wants in. Wants Out. Wants in. Wants Out. Wants in.]

ME: [Lets Dog Out. Lets Dog in. Lets Dog Out. Lets Dog in. Lets Dog Out. Lets Dog in.]

DOG: [Brings toy.] Play with me.

ME: [Plays with dog for a bit.]

DOG: [Drops toy. Brings other toy.] Play with me.

ME: [Plays with dog for a bit.]

DOG: [Drops toy. Brings yet another toy] Play with me.

ME: [Plays with dog for a bit.]

DOG: [Grabs remote and runs to another room.]

ME: [Follows dog and takes remote away.] No. No sir. You don’t chew on the remote.

DOG: [Starts chewing coffee table leg]

ME: [Pushes dog away.] No. No sir. You don’t chew on the furniture.

DOG: [Starts chewing on sofa leg.]

ME: [Pushes dog away.] No. No sir. What did I say about chewing on furniture?

DOG: [Jumps on my lap. Starts licking my face.]

ME: Stop it. [Moves dog away from face.]

DOG: [Nibbles on my hand.]

ME: [Moves hand.] Stop. [Puts dog on floor at my feet.

DOG: [Nibbles feet.]

ME: Ya basta! Enough. I’m at my wit’s end with you.

DOG: Humph. [Lays head on my foot. Closes eyes. Starts to snore.]

ME: [Looks down at Dog. Heart swells. Mumbles . . . ] What have I done?

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