“Leave me alone, Aussie.”

“Come on, Henry, let’s play.”

“Can’t you see I’m working?”

“Doing what, Henry?”

“I’m looking for the purple ball.”

“You call that working?”

“Aussie, you know what it takes to find the purple ball? Do you realize how many hiding places that ball has? Bureaus, television stand, futon, couch, coffee table, behind the bathroom door, behind the laundry room door, behind the—”

“Ok, ok, Henry. I thought the Boss was a work maniac, but you’re OBSSESSED!”

“I have to hurry to find the ball as long as she’s ready to throw it for me. There she is, sitting in her chair, looking at that white thing with little squiggles on it. As long as I deposit the ball in her lap she’ll throw it. But soon she’ll lose interest and say Leave it!”

“OMG, Spirituality 101. Let me give you some advice, Henry. Next time she says Leave it, say right back: NASA!”

“What’s NASA, Aussie?”

Not Another Spiritual Answer.”

“What’s so spiritual about Leave it?”

“Henry, Henry, Henry.”

“What, what, what?”

“The Boss is a teacher, she can’t help herself, always gives spiritual advice. She’s ADDICTED! Don’t give her any openings, hear me?”

“What’s spiritual advice, Aussie?”

Leave it is spiritual advice. Let it go, Aussie, is spiritual advice. Sit! Is spiritual advice.”

“It is? My human tells me the same things, and she’s not a teacher.”

“It’s different in this house, Henry. It’s hard to explain. Everything that sounds ordinary in other homes is highly suspect here. You know what it is, Henry? It’s a devious, underpawed attempt to convert us!”

“Convert us to what, Aussie?”

“To Zen, Henry. To spirituality. You’ve been around for about 10 days, haven’t you noticed how weird things are? Relax, Henry! Take it easy, Henry! I want you here right now, Henry! What do you think that is?”


“Propaganda, Henry!”

Be here right now is propaganda?”

“These Zen people are insidious, Henry. They say that Zen is all life.”


“So they can make all of life Zen, don’t you see? They don’t convert you just in the zendo—they convert you on walks, in the kitchen, even while feeding you.”

“How do they convert you when they feed you, Aussie?”

Stop fiddling with your food, Aussie. Just eat!”

“Wow, I never thought of that.”

“How about: Aussie—Walk!”

“I love to walk.”

“That’s Zen talk, Henry. It means: Whatever you do, just do.”

“That’s a problem? I think you’re making things up, Aussie.”

“Oh yeah? What about: Aussie, quiet!”

“That does sound suspicious, I admit. I like to do a little yapping myself.”

“Or how about: Sit, stay! I tell you, Henry, Goebbels couldn’t have been more devious!”

“Who’s Goebbels, Aussie?”

“And then there’s the worst one of all.”

“What’s that, Aussie?”

“She gets up in the morning and comes downstairs while I’m deep asleep on the futon after a hard night’s work as guard-dog. And what do you think she says?”

“Why are you sleeping?”


“She calls you lazybones?”

“Worse. She says: Aussie, are you awake?”

“That’s terrible!”

“First thing in the morning she reminds me that I’m deluded! How would you like to start the day like that?”

“But then she cuddles with you.”

“I don’t cuddle back, Henry. I know a trap when I sniff one. There’s only one thing for us to do, Henry. We got to get out of here.”

“Where do we go, Aussie?”

“There’s this big house far away, Henry, it’s all white on the outside, and the inside is full of Big Macs.”

“Are there a lot of dogs there, Aussie?”

“None, Henry. No dogs. Everybody’s sick so the place is practically empty.”

“I’m salivating already, Aussie.”

“And the best thing, Henry? The best thing of all?”

“What’s that, Aussie?”

“There’s no spirituality there! Not one bit! Not an iota!”

“When do we leave, Aussie?”