“Dora is there,” I told the soldier, she was lying dutifully at our feet.

“Ah, P, that dog is no good. She’s no good! If she’s not going to hunt a squirrel, the least she could do is get the newspaper!”

We don’t have a newspaper but I didn’t say anything because I was thinking of Dora’s little undersized front teeth which would have no hope of grabbing a newspaper.

“Yep, that’s not a dog. What we’ve got right there is a budget drain. Dora’ll drain your budget and that’s about all.”

I laughed.

“And she’s so picky. What right does she have? If she were a war dog, if she were a dog who could do some battling it might make sense she get to be picky what she eats but she doesn’t do shit so what is she doing being so picky, P?”

“She can hear what you say.”

“Good! I hope she hears every word. Budget. Drain.”

In the picture she is guarding a bisquit. She doesn’t want to EAT the bisquit but she doesn’t want Clunk eating it either.