In MacDonalds! - a waggish tale
“SIT!” I commanded.
“Where?” said the dog I had just bought from the shady character at the end of the market.
“WHAT!?! ... you’re a dog ! You don’t answer back!”
“Excuse me, but which table would you like to sit at? We have a choice of twenty-odd, at my reckoning.”
“Listen,” I snapped, “I wasn’t sold a talking dog. I didn’t pay good money to that scruff ...”
“... that extremely nice man who let me do exactly what I wanted every hour of the day”...
“ ... that scruff, that indisciplined, unprincipled scruff from whom I have the misfortune to have bought you ... for you to ignore me when I ask you ... command you, in the proper tone of voice, to SIT!”
“I didn’t ignore you. I am perfectly willing to sit, anywhere you like. Just choose a table. This is a MacDonald’s, for Pete’s sake. Let’s both sit and have a burger. I’m famished.”
“If you and I are going to have any sort of relationship, I am the Alpha Male, and you are the runt of the pack. When I say SIT you SIT, on the floor. When I say SEEK ...”
“... I go and get us a burger.”
“When I say LIE DOWN...”
“I go home with you for a nice rest on a full tummy. Now sit. You’re paying.”
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