Dear Elvis the coon hound:
It's a long way from New Orleans to Calgary, a long way from the broken levee to the cedar-scented dog bed (King-sized, naturally) in the voodoo bungalow. You have a few things to learn.
Yep, it's pretty much always this cold.
Nope, you can't pee on the rug.
Yep, that stuffed goose is a squeaky TOY and
Nope, it won't hurt you.
Yep, you really do have to be spritzed with eucalyptus deodorant every day, because, Elvis, you're a smelly old hound dog.
Nope, you don't ever have to go back to living under a truck.
Yep, your eyebrows are really cute.
(PS: "Hoser" is just what we all call each other, no offense.)
No comments:
Post a Comment