One fry caught bam, two fries caught bam, three fries caught bam, straight to Poochies mouth. Those savory fries with the golden brown crisp and long slender bodies had brought so much joy to Americans. But with consequence. The obesity epidemic affected not only humans but animals as well and Mcdonald's was to blame. Poochie was a victim to obesity. His small hotdog like body had the shape of a dachshund but the ears of dumbo told you not. His golden fur coat resembled the fries yellowness and his breath dripped of grease as his belly dragged across the floor. After all I was to be blamed. I was the one who wanted him anyway. The solo adventures just to see the new little puppy deserted in a backyard a few houses down.
The subzero metal table felt like liquid nitrogen. The room was black, only the darkness of a black hole was to be seen if looked at properly. But the newspaper never covered this part.
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At least that was to be laughed at. But not a glimpse given as a young me only gave him a pat on the head but no walk which he begged for. The scraps of my fat steak were usually a tradition meant to be dropped. The doggy bags brought home from restaurants were usually in thought of him. I was not a witness but a victim of my grandma’s bitching. The useless dog just “stunk up the house” and laid only to get up with a scent of food. But how would she know the relationship between man and dog. After all she was only a girl that was given orders just to please her warbound country. Poochie was my best bud so why not do my best to please him back and get him a