My dog stormed into my office this morning and demanded a raise. I said, “Hey, dog, where do you get off asking for more money?” He said because he didn’t earn any more than the minimum wage and he felt that particular situation is a “travesty against mankind”. I reminded him he’s not a man and asked him why exactly he felt so entitled to an increase in the first place. I said, “Do you think I make any money from these stupid books? So just where am I supposed to come up with this extra cash for you anyway?”
He told me that first of all, he’s entitled because he’s been so cute, especially lately, and second, I can get the money if I’d simply write better books. He jumped up on the cushiony chair in the corner of the office, the one I never get to sit on because I’m always at my desk writing this junk. He pulled out a stick of gum from beneath his collar, unwrapped it, careful to deposit the wrapper in the wastebasket, and began casually chewing it.
After looking at his watch he growled before jumping off the chair in a huff. He crossed his front legs across his chest and began stamping his rear paw on the hardwood floor as though impatient for a late bus to arrive. He stopped stamping, but only to stare at me, then asked when he can expect payment. I shook my head but suggested that instead of a raise if it would be satisfactory if he got an additional dog biscuit after his evening meal as a reward, the reward he already gets for eating his entire dinner because he had demonstrated that he was a “good little eater.”
While chewing his gum he walked over to my bookcase and straightened a few books before turning back to me and asked if that “goes for breakfast as well?” I agreed but he reverted to impatiently stamping his rear paw and glancing at his watch again. I sighed and opened a desk drawer and handed him his weekly paycheck. He sarcastically asked when I was going to offer direct deposit and stormed out of the room. I would have become quite upset with him – but he’s so cute.
Read More About: