I love my dogs more than life itself. They’ve been there for me though a lot, and they are my one source of unconditional love since the death of my mother 23 years ago. They’re always happy to see me, don’t expect me to cook, and they never hog the remote control. Who could ask for more?
But I have to say that their taste in presents is questionable. One time they brought me a half a snake. Since it wasn’t the “business end”, this was cause for more than a little concern, but I never did find the other half. They also have a fascination with cockroaches that for some reason they think I share, and we definitely do not have the same taste in cologne. I’d much prefer Axe for men to Eau de Cat Sh**.
One time one of them left a dead rat under my pillow, and I slept on it all night long without realizing. Ugh! They were really confused that I wasn’t completely delighted upon discovering it in the morning. Nor was I delighted with the bird skeleton that one of them vomited on my carpet.
Another time I caught one of them eating the poop just as it came out of the other one. I wonder how often that has happened before they’ve come inside and given me a big kiss? And who in their right mind wants to roll on top of dead animals? They definitely have a different sense of personal hygiene.
Today’s present was what I thought was a dead leaf. Harmless enough. Until I picked it up and discovered it was a desiccated lizard.
Thanks, guys.
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