conversations with mr dog

Mr Dog and I were in a different part of town today. On our way back, on the bus, we had a little conversation. Not an unimportant one, mind you. Every conversation is canineosophically important.

CATS?!?! Are you mad? I’m shocked! Shocked!

You meant cats for dinner? Oh, ok, that works. Barbecued. With gravy.

16 thoughts on “conversations with mr dog

  1. my daughter asked for a copy of these fine portraits! The cats however were unavailable for comment.

  2. I’ll send you the large files so you can both study mr Dog’s impressive teeth in detail and tell the cats about them (they probably won’t want to comment).

  3. ‘Big shining teeth,’ I tell him. ‘You’d make the alligators ashamed of themselves!’

    His tongue seems strangely elastic. He laughs at my tongue. I can barely touch my nose with it, no matter how much I try to extend it. ‘How do you solve it when you get ice-cream accidentally on your nose?’ he asks, puzzled.

  4. Despite his regrettable remarks about cats, I remain enamored of Mr. Dog. (My cats, however, say they are not afraid of those teeth …)

  5. Tail-wags to you Diana! (However, mr Dog warns you, cats cannot be relied upon for correct reports about themselves or anything else! He thinks they’re shaling from fear, too afraid even to admit it.)

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