Molly Sez

As Molly sat on the rug, chewing on a Nylabone, I asked her, “What is it about those things that you enjoy chewing on them so much?”

“Well daaarrrdy,” she failed to enunciate around the chew toy, “oou killth somethimg, theng youth givv me the bonhnhth.”

“Huh?”

Clearing her mouth, she repeated, “you kill something, then you give me the bone to chew on. It’s nice.”

“Well, you know that they’re not really bones, right? They’re just some kind of plastic. I didn’t actually kill anything.”

“Wait… what???”

“It’s not really a bone. It’s plastic.”

She dropped the Nylabone, “It’s plastic!?!?!”

“Yes, it’s plastic.”

“All this time you’ve been giving me fake bones?!? You haven’t been out hunting, and you didn’t give me a bone from your kill????”

“Yeah, I order them online.”

She stood up and started to walk away.

“Wait. Where are you going? You seem to like them so much, so I gave you more.”

“I’m not talking to you.” She said without turning.

“Oh, come on Mol…”

“I’m not talking to you.” Getting farther away she said, “You see, this is what it looks like when I’m not talking to you.”

Oh, fur Pete's sake. No good deed goes unpunished.