I’m a Dog
Howard Gaukrodger, 21.09.14
Practice: timed exercise: ‘You’re an animal. 5 mins.’
I was just having a poop on a pristine bit of footpath when my owner barked at me and pushed my hindquarters into the bushes. What’s all that about? I’ve spent days sniffing out a clean bit of path. I felt like turning round and pissing on her Levis. That would have shown her who wears the trousers.
You know, owners are all the same these days, leash on, leash off, shouting: sit, kennel, come… and those are just the polite ones. Don’t humans have brains? We know when there’s food around. We know how to act cute to get it. For Dog’s sake! And then there’s “Shake hands, Pooch!” Makes me whine. Next time anyone asks me to shake hands, I’m going to put my paw in a patch of poo and see if they want to shake hands then. Ugh! All that stinking nail varnish and hand cream. Why can’t people just smell like me. Dollop the doberman loves my smell. He’s always sniffing around my hindquarters.
Why can’t we see things from others’ perspective?