Yesterday I was buying a large bag of Dog Chow for Socks the wonder dog and was about to check out.
A woman behind me asked if I had a dog. What did she think I had, an elephant?
I’m retired now, with some spare time on my hands. So, on impulse, I told her that no, I didn’t have a dog, and that I was starting the Dog Food Diet again. Although I probably shouldn’t, because I’d ended up in the hospital last time, but that I’d lost 50 pounds before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most of my orifices and IVs in both arms.
I told her that it was essentially the perfect diet and that the way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Dog Chow nuggets and simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry and that the food is nutritionally complete so I was going to try the diet again.
(I have to mention here that practically everyone in the line was by now enthralled with my story.)
Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the dog food poisoned me.
I told her no. I stepped off a curb to sniff an Irish Setter’s ass and a car hit us both.
I thought the guy behind her was going to have a heart attack, he was laughing so hard!
The manager won’t let me shop there anymore….
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