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Sept 2nd. The vet

Don’t really get the fuss about the vet. I thought it was great.

First, there were many balls. The Woman got one down for me and, after a short chewing episode, she said I got to keep it. Only the one, despite attempting to slobber on all of them to make them mine. I don’t know what was wrong with the other balls. Their perfect curves deliver an infinite vision of what life might be. And when I bring them back I get cheese.

Second, the vet keeps dog chews hanging under the counter so you can just jump up and grab as many as you want. They fall out of the plastic packets when you rip them. This is excellent. It actually quite distracted me from the odd moment when the vet pierced me on the back of the neck with his thin spiky teeth. What was that about? Still, overall I liked the vet. He gave me cheese. And pieces of deceased ox hang in bags in his house available to all comers.

The vet offers me tolerance and dignity.

I am not sure what he offers the ox.

Categories: dignity dog dog philosophy philosophy

Hergest the Hound

I am a dog of many thoughts.

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