Wednesday

A Week's Worth of Monologues: Wednesday

I am tired. I am getting sick. I do not want to walk my puppies.

Walking one puppy in the rain is annoying. Walking two...difficult. Walking three, especially when one of them is too small to walk anywhere without being trampled...ugh.

I am tired of having three puppies. Yes, You, Teacup Chihuahua who is not even really my puppy…I am tired of you. Because you see: you are not even really a dog. You are an illustration of genetic selection being taken too far, a cautionary tale, a miniature canine Frankenstein, if you will, that my Japanese roommate just happens to think is adorable. But you are not adorable. You are a malformed gerbil. Your eyes are the size of your skull…and your skull is the size of a walnut. Your bark is high pitched and annoying. You relentlessly pick fights with my dogs, and then I worry for your safety, because I’m sure that you’ll be eaten…and my dogs are not big dogs. My dogs are the size of newborn babies. You are not a baby…you are a fetus young enough to still be aborted. An ugly, brown fetus, with bulging eyes and a tale. How you exist is beyond me.