I was working in the Me Only Room on Sunday when I heard one of the dogs come into the room behind me and settle.
A little shifting of paws and then-
Hey dickhead, Cutter said.
Hmmmm, I said peering at an invoice I was getting ready to send out. (Did I have all the man-hours on that?)
You’re working too much, we never get to see you and Miss Carol is pissed, Cutter hissed at me.
Really?, I murmured, wondering why that material cost just didn’t look right.
Are you listening to me? Cutter barked.
I am, I said, leaning back and closing my eyes and wondering why my dogs have to talk to me.
Actually, what it is, is that we miss you, Cutter whined. We miss basking in the glory that is you, he said.
Honest? I said spinning around in my Me Only Chair.
Cutter glanced over his shoulder and looked back at me and said, Nah, not really, I was just trying to get your attention.
I sat staring.
You’re never home anymore and I’m stuck in this house fourteen hours a day with Tug, he said. Do you have any idea what it’s like to listen to Tug snore and smack his lipless lips all day? he said.
No I don’t, I said.
If this keeps up my little brain is gonna explode, Cutter exclaimed, agitated.
Won’t be much of an explosion, I said, turning back to a sub-contractor’s bill.
I hate you, he said, prancing out and woofing for his brother.
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