To bark or not to bark, that is the question.
I’d like to clear up a few things if I may. First up, let’s talk about the postman.
First, not someone I know, so I'm barking to say hello. Sometimes to say: Who the heck are you?
Second, he has terrible dress sense. Fluro is not friendly.
Third, he has no personal boundaries. I mean to say, he stomps up the front steps, bangs the thing attached to the front door, leaves stuff behind of dubious nature, often bangs loudly on the door, and stomps off again. Then he has the rudeness to do it all over again at Jan’s house next door. She’s my friend and frankly I don’t think it’s on.
Now, the singing at night, when I go to bed. It's singing people, singing. Plus sometimes I’m, shall we say, a little eency bit scared. So loud singing. It helps, trust me, it helps.
Now lastly, the place out back where the beeping and the smelly smokey stuff happens. What is that?
I’ve not once got to try any of it. Not for want of trying let me tell you. I’m always sniffing around under that table, but nothing. It’s as if he doesn’t think it would be any good for me. How would he know? FFS, I’m a dog. I eat anything!
Anyway, I’ve said my bit. I’m off to dig up his garden.
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