11 June 2011
She Is My Best Friend
I would not write half the shit I do write if not for the Hammer. Animals are so much like us and so much unlike us. Take this morning for instance. I was lying there sleeping when the Hammer came in and woke me up. I could ignore her of course but that would be an invitation for her to vomit in front of the fireplace. That is her vomiting place.
I like to vomit. Makes me feel like a man. The Hammer likes to vomit more. Keeps her master on his toes.
I like the morning. The Hammer likes it more. If she had not woke me up I would have had an hour or two less of consciousness today. I would not have had time to do the things I do, like typing, before the beer does what it does to me.
Last weekend it was sunny and hot. I took the Hammer to her favourite creek, the one with the big beaver pond. She was so happy. Maybe even happier than all the Canuck fans were last night and she does not even smoke dope and drink beer like they all do.
A happy dog makes me happy. Happy me likes to write. The Hammer wants me to take her to the park for her morning shit. Too bad she cannot use the crapper like me. I guess that is it for the typing this morning.