Ten minutes later I saw HIM in the hall running without a care. A visiting dog sporting a fashionable festive hoodie had to be the culprit. As his collar jingled like Santa he stopped dead in his tracks when he saw me. We both spoke silently with our eyes locked and suddenly I found myself filled with angry vocabulary not suitable for any time of the year. The dog now with downtrodden eyes, sucked himself closely to the wall as he passed by me. I glared at him as he walked by with apprehension and screamed, "You little ^&*&$% !!!! Don't do that again or Santa is not going to buy you any treats!"
Not wanting to have yet another disappointment over a door mat I found something suitable at a second hand shop. Costing more than my WalMart special, it was plain, brown, and obscure, and should last me through the next decade.The top of the mat read:
THE DOG - DAY 751--My captors continue to torment me with bizarre rubber squeak toys. They eat lavish meals in my presence while I am forced to subsist on dry cereal. The only thing that keeps me going is the hope of eventual escape--that and the satisfaction I get from occasionally ruining some piece of furniture.I fear I may be going insane!Yes, I thought to myself, this new rug will last at least through the Christmas season. It has no colour, or feel of the outdoors. It is a rug that does not tease or beckon anything on four legs. It is fool proof!The next morning the replacement rug was ceremoniously marched to the dumpster. Once again the bladder and bowels of the visiting creature hit the mark and I no longer cared.