The Family Dog

The Family Dog

She tried giving me a treat to feed to Gracie.

“Go on, give it to her,” she said. “Maybe she’ll warm up to you.”

“No,” I said.

“Why not?”

“Last time she bit me. Bit me while I was trying to give her a goddamned treat.”

“That’s just dogs,” she said.

“No,” I said. “That’s just this fucking dog.”

“Ah, go on and give this to her,” she said. “It’ll make her happy.”

“Okay,” I said. “But if she nips me, I’m slapping this little bitch across the room.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said.

“I’d more than dare.”

“You are evil,” she said.

“I don’t get bitten for no good goddamned reason,” I said.

I waited.

“It’s your call,” I said. “She nips me, I slap her into a circle.”

“For Christ’s sake, she’s the family dog.”

“I know,” I said. “And I don’t care.”

“You don’t care?”

“No,” I said. “Because I’m family too. And you don’t seem to give a shit about me getting bit.”