Thursday, August 12, 2004
Jesus Christ
I’m in the nursery on the phone with Penny. Scrabble has followed me in, and all of the toys, etc., for the nursery are in boxes and piles. I hear a rustling sound and turn to see Scrabble’s teeth firmly embedded in Buttercup’s head. Thank God it’s just a pillow.
“No, Scrabble!”
The dog stops chewing and looks at me, tail wagging, teeth still gripping the pillow.
“No! Bad dog!”
He gives a little growl of frustration and lets go. I go back to my conversation. Seconds later, the sound comes again. I turn to see him dragging a coconut headed something, twice his size, out of a box.
“No, Scrabble! Scrabble!”
He turns to look at me.
“No! We don’t chew on toys!”
He bounces around the room for a minute, and stops, wagging his tail.
“Good boy!”
I go back to trying to find the file I want to send Penny. Shortly, I hear a crackling noise. This time, he has the head of my Jesus action figure in his mouth.
“Scrabble, no! We don’t chew on the son of god!”
“No, Scrabble!”
The dog stops chewing and looks at me, tail wagging, teeth still gripping the pillow.
“No! Bad dog!”
He gives a little growl of frustration and lets go. I go back to my conversation. Seconds later, the sound comes again. I turn to see him dragging a coconut headed something, twice his size, out of a box.
“No, Scrabble! Scrabble!”
He turns to look at me.
“No! We don’t chew on toys!”
He bounces around the room for a minute, and stops, wagging his tail.
“Good boy!”
I go back to trying to find the file I want to send Penny. Shortly, I hear a crackling noise. This time, he has the head of my Jesus action figure in his mouth.
“Scrabble, no! We don’t chew on the son of god!”
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