“What?” said Pudge. “There’s no dog in there. You’ve lost your marbles, Scout.” He sniffed the trunk of a crape myrtle on the sidewalk. Then he peed on it.
“No. It’s true. It’s a big wiry Wolfhound and he says unkind things to me.”
“Hmm,” said Pudge. “What sort of things?”
“Things like I’m funny-looking and that being fluffy is stupid. I’m very fluffy. Fluffy isn’t stupid!” Scout was proud of his black fluffy ears and sleek coat.
Pudge was unimpressed. Being a Boykin, he knew a thing or two about fluffiness and curls himself. Then he said ominously: “I wonder if it could be old Hamish come back to haunt the place.”
“Hamish!” exclaimed Scout. “I remember him. He’s been gone for years. I think he went to dog heaven before his people moved out… Boy was he a pain in the butt. He bit me on my ear twice! Then he put my head in his mouth!”
Click Follow to receive emails when this author adds content on Bublish
Comment on this Bubble
Your comment and a link to this bubble will also appear in your Facebook feed.