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In MacDonalds! - a waggish tale

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“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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