Andare, Partire, Tornare ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I'm a doggie! Woof! Cue barfing I am standing at my register at work today when a mom and grandmom with adorable blonde moppet in tow arrive. As I work at a pet supply store, we keep bowls of dog biscuits on the counter. While I scan cans of catfood, adorable moppet grabs the bowl off the counter and starts pawing through it. I see no dog, so I hasten to intervene. "Those are cookies for doggies, honey!" Moppet shoots me the stink-eye. "I *am* a doggie! Woof, woof!" Aww, how cute. But she's eyeing the biscuits with a rather predatory air, so I look at her mom for backup. Mom is not really paying attention, and neither is grandmom. I repeat that the bowl is full of dog biscuits, and mom waves a resigned hand. "I could tell her to stop, but she won't listen." It takes me a minute to process this. In this time, moppet has stuffed her face with four dog biscuits, and is masticating them enthusiastically. I note with relief that at least one of them is charcoal. But I try again, because moppet is still rooting around in the bowl (was she afraid she might not get one of each flavor?). "Ma'am, dogs stick their nose in the bowl all the time - I'm sure they've been licked." Mom looks bored. "She won't listen, so I guess it's ok. She likes to play pretend. She's very imaginative." Moppet is now barking through the mouthfull of biscuit. Crumbs are flying onto my register. Grandma coos, "Who's the naughty doggie? You'll eat dinner out of a doggie bowl!" This delights the moppet, who stuffs a few more cookies (and probably a liver treat or two) into her maw. Exunt omnes, with moppet still barking gleefully. I wish to god I were making this up. 10:37 p.m. - 2004-09-19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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