Stanley, what are all these holes you’re digging in the ground?
The enemy is hiding there.
Rabbits, moles, and groundhogs, to name just a few. To you it’s just some surface with grass, but I know different. Evil lurks inside the earth, but don’t you worry, I’m on it.
What can such small things do to us?
They can eat up our vegetable garden.
We don’t have a vegetable garden. We’re probably the only ones in Western Massachusetts who don’t raise vegetables. You know what I think, Stanley? You’re getting senile.
Good for me.
You’re shitting under the laundry lines with the fresh wash hanging from it, we saw two horses with riders on the road and you didn’t so much as blink, and a deer stopped 100 meters in front of you, froze, and you didn’t even move. But when we stopped for take-out food the other day you barked like crazy at an ill-tempered Chihuahua, whom you’d have ignored completely when you were younger.
Chihuahuas affect me like that. Except for Godzilla.
Godzilla that terrorized Tokyo?
No, Godzilla the Chihuahua who’s part of Leeann’s gang. Leeann-rhymes-with-Stan takes us out on the best outings. Leeann’s gang is my gang.
I believe they call it a pack.
You humans are nitpickers with words. If you’re part of Leeann’s gang, you’re my friend. Otherwise, fuggedaboudit.
And here’s more evidence of your senility, Stanley. You’re just too happy!
Rae is making Shepherd’s Pie and I love the smell of ground hamburger meat.
You’re running round and round the table getting in her way! You’d think peace has come to the world.
No, just ground beef and mashed potatoes.
You start running up and down the stairs come 10 am because you think you’re going for a walk or to Leeann. How can you be so bloody happy? Don’t you know you’re deaf?
Don’t you know you’re half blind?
Don’t you know your back legs collapse on a wooden floor?
And you can still be happy under those conditions?
You see, I told you you’re senile.
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