The traitor


I’ve started to move my things out of the house now. I’ve hung a few photos on walls of my doghouse. It’s really quite cozy. I’ll be happy out here all by myself, I’m just sure of it.

Today was the last straw. They are all beginning to accept the fact that I come home smelling of other dogs. Big dogs, small dogs, fat dogs, skinny dogs, hairy dogs, hairless dogs. They understand how much I love it.

But today, today was just bad. The greyhound group I volunteer for was having their annual greyhound picnic. When I came home smelling like all those other greyhounds, they knew we had gone to a greyhound party without them. They waited at least until we fed them dinner and then, they put my camera by the door, gave me a quarter for a phone call and said happy trails.

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