Normally Shithead only visits us for a few hours on special occasions. Yuppie bipeds with mini-biped come over for feasts and such. During those visits I am incarcerated in the garage. Dumbass is allowed out to "play" with Shithead, a concept I am entirely unclear of. What's to play? Can this Shithead throw a ball? Roll dice? Swing a tennis racket? No! Their idea of play is to chase each other around the den while Dumbass, clearly his superior, submits to him by leaning forward on her haunches, then jumping from side to side and barking.
I could imagine playing with him. If only they'd let me out. (Barking incessantly doesn't work - the evil prison guards squirt me with water through the crate bars. I really hate that.) I would use the little fucker for the ball; that's what I'd do. In fact, if I could get a front paw under his collar I could lift him up and punt him with a back foot. Send him clear over the fence.
Anyway, I guess they figured they couldn't keep me incarcerated for a week which yuppie biped is away so we're all "trying to get along." The ignorant bipeds keep saying "That's a good dog, Mikey. You be nice to Rogue." The fools simply assume that if I'm not beating the piss out of him, I'm being nice to him, as opposed to just lying in wait. Oh ya. Did I mention I'm wearing a muzzle? This is an evil torture device for dogs that keeps us from biting things or yawning. I can't tell you how bored I've been lately (not being able to bite things) and I can't even yawn you fuckers!
I suppose since he is in fact a dog and not a fucking cat that I should at least make an effort to get along with him. If yuppie biped ever gets a cat and leaves it here for a week he's going to come home to a pile of bones and fur. And speaking of cats, Mousifer Satan and the evil kitten named Chili are freaking this dog the hell out. I guess they're scared of him, but they express their fear by charging out from under a bed in a huge puffball, up on toes, back arched, hissing and spitting. The kitten even hopped a few steps in this condition. I momentarily felt sorry for the little Shithead. Being as I had to check my rectal fur afterwards myself.
I hate it when relatives visit.
