My Daddy today was reading from the grey pieces of paper that in the place called Japan that is far away, sometimes dogs are asked for in the color of blue, or of a size that is smaller than dogs are really supposed to be. That does not stop these dogs from happening, though, because people who wear the science lab coats enjoy how money looks and how it can buy them even more science lab coats. Who does not enjoy this is the dogs who get created when the brother and sister dogs are made to have pants-off time together, because sometimes these dogs come out with only one eye, or with bones that suddenly just go away.
TOKYO, Dec. 27 — Care for a Chihuahua with a blue hue? Or how about a teacup poodle so tiny it will fit into a purse — the canine equivalent of a bonsai?
The Japanese sure do.
Rare dogs are highly prized here, and can set buyers back more than $10,000. But the real problem is what often arrives in the same litter: genetically defective sister and brother puppies born with missing paws or faces lacking eyes and a nose.
It is probably just nicer for everyone and also dogs if people can maybe just let themselves be happy even if their dog is colored like a normal dog, or cannot fit in their pockets. Because even though I am a small whippet dog and don't always know a lot of things, a thing I am sure is true is that everyone should probably be allowed to have all of their eyes.
I would like to mention, on this Eve of the Boxes and the Plates of Cookies Left Out, that I have strived every day, in all the ways a Wolfhound can, to be as Good as possible, and I can only hope that Mr. S. Claus of Pole North will keep up his end of the bargain. If you should like for me to specify some instances, they would include the non-bitery of several size-small humans who seemed inclined to utilize my majestic tail as their plaything, countless occasions upon which I forewent the immediate relief of floor-poopery and opted instead for my Daddy to come home and administer walkies, my constant surveillance for squirrels that would, if given half a chance, divest us of all possessions decorative and edible, and my alerting of Daddy on the occasion of critical changes in smells and sounds above and below his human perceptory range.
It has been said that Mr. S. Claus can determine when all and sundry creatures are in a state of alertness or slumber, and it is my most fervent wish that his obvious conclusion that I, Mordred T. Dog, am ever-vigilant, watchful, and in need of only the most minute amount of eye-rest, and that my efforts will be thusly rewarded. Ideally with a soft toy of the squeaky persuasion, or perhaps some ham.
Hi Nice Friends!
Gentle Readers,
