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My Pop and I, we hate cats and the way they slink around corners and refuse to fight fair the way my Pop likes to fight, which is with his mouth wide open and his lip curled back over his teeth and his nostrils quivering, which to me is an honest kind of fighting, that’s what I call it, and not like those sneaky cats that always make poo-poo in the house, even if it is in some box, as if they don’t respect their own territory – I mean, that’s where they live, arf; while we, on the other hand, we DO respect our territory, marking fire hydrants, parked cars, animals, garage doors, open alleyways, bicycles, the yard, the side of the house, the garbage can, lawn chairs, the swimming pool (when no one is looking), Mrs. Hardy’s leg (when she’s sleeping), and the apple pie that our neighbor Mrs. May always leaves outside to cool off, and we do this with happy smiles, arf, on our faces, which is certainly not the case with those evil cats and their sharp claws.
Don
(from A Pup and His Pop) - hahah
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