There’s a Beer in My Rear


Dear Flash,

Oh, I know, I haven’t been writing as much lately, so much so that I had convinced myself you were a normal dog. I was so fixed in this delusion, in fact, that I actually thought it was a good idea to ask a friend to dog-sit while Jay and I were away this weekend. I didn’t bat an eye when she offered to take you to her house, rather than come to feed you here. I admit to having a gnawing in my gut when I got off the plane in Seattle and had a text about you rolling down the car windows on the way to her house, but it was too late to change my mind at that point.

I am strangely curious as to how this happened, and at the same time repulsed by the fact that it did happen while you were at someone else’s house. I can only imagine the private little party going on in your head when you hopped up on Amy’s table, chugged a Coors Light and took a drag on the cigarette. I wonder if you were aware she would be in contact with me, and there would be photographic evidence of the event. Then again, I wonder if it would occur to you to care that this behavior was considered socially unacceptable.

You are a piece of work.

Love, Nina

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5 thoughts on “There’s a Beer in My Rear

  1. In defense of Flash I must say he was “framed” : There is no way a self respecting Corgi would light up! Corgis are smart that way.
    On the beer charge he his probably guilty as charged…they do lick, uh, undesirable regions…sorry dude.

  2. Don’t worry, Flash. My childhood dog used to hoard beer bottles. He’d carry them off to places unknown to try savour the backwash and peel the labels. If anyone came to our house and found his stash (behind the sofa), they would have thought we were a bunch of drunks. But nope, the only drunk was the dog.

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