A Dog? Me? Never by Kimberly RipleyUnexpected additions to our family come in many shapes or forms . . . even four legs, a toothy smile, and with a wag of joy. We are used to the humorous white-lie of "Mom, can I keep it? It followed me home." So what do we, as parents, do when our children slip a little spin on the line by bringing up about a clause in a rental agreement? I haven't had a dog in over twenty years. And to be quite truthful, I haven't cared. So why do I now find myself in the constant company of a 70-pound Rotweiler-German shepherd mix who eats his poop and licks my face? Philly came with my son when he returned home after living for a year and a half in Florida-"on his own". And of course, since his dog had been his constant companion and only friend for a year and a half, he had to come, too. In about six weeks Scott had saved up enough money to get an apartment. He proudly gave me the grand tour-all twenty-five square feet of it. It looked very..male. "Oh, yeah, Ma I didn't tell you. This place doesn't take pets." Big surprise. So now I awaken each morning to the sound of a large tail thumping. The thumping becomes wiggling, the wiggling becomes whining, and soon I find myself standing outside in my bathrobe, in 10-degree weather while Philly takes a prolonged pee. And if I'm especially lucky I'm treated to the sight of steaming poop on frozen snow. Philly is, however, awfully good company. I have some of my most intellectual conversations nowadays with this impervious pooch. He smiles and nods, all the while absorbing my many fascinating musings. And it's making him more intelligent, too. Just yesterday he followed me to the pantry, where I began my dissertation on the benefits of crunchy bones to clean his teeth. I explained how the crunchy granules would chip away at the plaque that was building up, resulting in white and smooth teeth. He understood. I know he did. He answered me, confirming what I'd known all along. "Ruff," he said. He's so smart. He knew that before the plaque is removed, and his smileformed to pearly white, that his teeth are currently rough. I'm not becoming attached to Philly. Oh, no. Not me. In fact I've considered advertising for a good home for him. The new owners would have to provide a stay-at-home mom. And they would have to keep his weekly appointments for his bath and pretty plaid bow. Of course it would be mandatory that he continue visiting the hamburger joint on Third and Vine every Tuesday night. You know, he just loves their double cheeseburger special. And he must sleep on a couch. Why of course the living room couch-what other couch could I possibly mean? Hmmm. No calls today. I guess he'll just have to stay put right here with us for the time being. But I assure you, I am not attached to this dog About This Story's Author:
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[Kimberly Ripley; 128 pages] You've read excerpts, Laundry Management and The Boyfriend, shared here at Humor Is Relative. Now read the book by Kimberly! You will smile, laugh, and no longer feel alone as a parent to teens. Can you relate?
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If you think dogs can't count, try putting three dog
biscuits in your pocket then giving Fido only two of them.
If dogs could talk, it would take a lot of fun out of
owning one.
Humor Is Relative thanks Cay Dickson, from Houston Chronicle, for the compliment! Dogs laugh, but they laugh with their tails.
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Kimberly Ripley [108 pages] by Kimberly Ripley [108 pages] by Kimberly Ripley [112 pages] by Kimberly Ripley [52 pages] Handsome? He looked like a dog's bum with a hat
on.
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