John Ott, here. This morning was an early breakfast, and the staff hit the road leaving their breakfast porkchop to ripen in the microwave until close to sunset. It was passing from ripening to rank when the old woman decided to put it to death and divide it among us. I took the first slice and chewed it slowly, leaving a tag of meat to suck on between the molars of my left lower jaw. I have ridden many a mile sucking on a bit of jerked meat, and the rancid pork chop suited me just fine. Suited me better than it did the old woman, who decided to take back my bite of meat when she noticed me sucking my teeth and spitting out the front door. She was warming up to rescue the meat, I suppose she wanted it for herself, and that wasn't going to happen. So I bit her hand, punched her ticket, fastened on to her left thumb like a river boat pit bull. She wailed. I kept the meat.
Now Mr. Ott-truly you should not bite the hand that feeds you my dear old fellow! However, I realize that you were trying to warm the meat in your mouth so that your staff could enjoy it for supper and when she tried to take it, you mistook her for some low down varmit poacher. So you are forgiven. You just mistook her for the infamous pork chop thief (aka Ceylon)
Cathy, Dino Bambino the Lawless Terrier, Laura-Lovey the Pug Diva and Sparky Boo Boo, the Pug Mutt
And playing together at The Bridge
Bubba Chunk, Gentleman and Scholar
Lucy the Beagledor
Liza, the sweet little bundle of good nature
Barney the Wonderbug
Whompin' Stompin' Walter-A Legend in His Own Mind
Sweet Rascal Joe
You have an astonishing range of behaviours, Mr. Ott.
John Ott, here. I am currently ignoring the wretched old woman. I am curled up on a wool trade blanket watching a bad movie with the garden staff.
Okay. If that's the way you want to play it. Lola pulls the ignoring me stunt and frankly, I don't mind the break. But hey, you know the old woman best.