Give the Dog a Bone


Me:  Beaumont?

Beau:  Whaaaat?

Me:  Why are you hiding in the kitchen?

Beau:  I’m not.

Me:  Then what are you doing?

Beau:  Waiting.

Me:  For what?

Beau:  Not ‘for what’.  For who.

Me:  (Sigh)  Whom.

Beau:  What?

Me:  The proper way to say it is, For whom.

Beau:  Who. Whom.  Doesn’t matter. What matters is my buddy, Rod, said he might bring me a bone.

Me:  When were you talking to Rod?

Beau:  I wasn’t.

Me:  So why did you say you were?

Beau:  I didn’t.

Me:  Well if you weren’t talking to him, how do you know he might bring you a bone?

Beau:  He text me.

Me:  Beaumont. You don’t have a phone.

Beau:  You do.

Me:  Right. And you know how to use it.

Beau:  Hey lady.  I’ve got my own blog. I could just as easily have a phone and know how to use it.

Me:  Your paws are too big to use the keypad.

Beau:  I repeat, if I can have my own blog, I don’t see why I can’t have my own phone.

Me:  That’s different.

Beau:  How?

Me:  Well, to have a phone you need to know how to use it and talk into it.

Beau:  And your point is?

Me:  Well, you don’t know how to talk.

Beau:  Really?  Then what am I doing right now?

Me:  That’s different.

Beau:  How so?

Me:  Well…. I’m the one typing your words.

Beau:  So…. then…. if I needed to text, you could type for me. Right?

Me:  Only if you had something to say.

Beau:  Oh lady, lady.  I got lots to say. Haven’t you noticed?

Me:  Oh. Right. Well then. About that bone.

Beau:  Well, now that you mention it. Can you text Rod to tell him to bring me a bunch?  I need something to chew on other than your words.

Me:  You know that’s a really bad joke?  It’s not even funny.

Beau:  Well, what do you expect? You’re the one doing the typing and we all know… You’re not funny.

Me:  (Sarcastically.  Which is silly in the first place ’cause sarcasm is lost on a dog.)  Thanks.

Beau:  You’re welcome. Now… about that text to Rod. Get to it, or else.

Me:  Or else what?

Beau:  I’ll ask Rod to come over and set you straight.  He’s always willing to protect the underdog.  Heh. Heh. Heh.

Me:  (Sigh.) Why do I feel  like I’m the underdog?

Beau:  Fact is. You’re not any kind of dawg. ‘Cause in this house, there can only be one kind of Dawg. Top Dog, underdog, any dog. I’m The Dawg.  

Me:  Thanks for the clarification. Good to know where I stand on the doggy pile.

Beau:  It’d be better if you knew where you stood on the issue of geting me my bones.


And the saga continues.  Beau always ends up with the upper paw… and the bone.  And Rod will always defend him.


One thought on “Give the Dog a Bone

Add yours

  1. Beaumont my friend we underdogs stick together and I will bring you the bones as soon as Louise texts me your address since you moved and she has done that just remember we underdogs rule


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