“Groucho, sit!”

Groucho sat.

“Lay down!”


Groucho lay down.

“Good boy,” she said and reached down to pat him on the head.

I know I am, he thought as he scratched his nose with one paw. Now lady, please don’t make me watch tonight.

…but of course she would. She would torture him with the pork roast she had made for her date as Groucho hoped for a crumb to fall from the table. Next she and her date would cuddle in front of the fire as Groucho’s Beagle body was roasting under his too thick fur.

In winter, it was never too bad…except when she got the fire going. His fur would then get confused and start to shed…leaving him cold and shivering the next few days and wishing she were one if those people that put those stupid looking sweaters on their dog.

Groucho lay on the oak floor, head on his crossed pissed, watching the hockey game and trying to ignore the make-out session going on behind him. Scribbons, you’re a bum, he thought after a particularly bad goal went in.

The lady and her date were beginning to eat each other. Although Grouchy thought they were enjoying their meals, he still preferred the fact that he could do all that licking for himself when the need came. He still retirees to ignore them, but he was hungry.

Head back on top of his paws, Groucho watched the legs twitching while listening to the stuttering sound of her saying, “Oh, yes Clark…right there.”

Yeah, right there, Clark, he thought. Now hurry the fuck up ’cause I’m hungry and Leno is on soon.

Finally, Groucho padded upstairs behind them, dodging falling clothing he still made it to the bedroom.

Clark was not very good at all this, it seemed. In fact, the lady seemed rather annoyed when licking his privates still left them soft.

This can’t end well.

Then the yelling started which, luckily, Groucho was able to sleep through.

Upon waking, Clark was gone…having left a single sock.

“You’re such a good boy, Groucho. You would always be a gentleman, right?”

Of course, he thought. Now feed me.

She did as he willed…a good dish of beef with gravy and some crunchy bits that, though he thought they had the distinct flavor of cardboard, he enjoyed chowing down on.

Now can we go to bed?

Again, it was like she heard him.

Groucho found this funny…before he had been a dog…in his past life as Grant, she never had heard him. In fact, she had poisoned him so she could take his condo…his fireplace…and his bed even. Of course, this was why Groucho had taken her as his person…he might not be able to take it all back, but he would have his revenge when the time was right.

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