The dog spoke to me for the first time today as I sat down to breakfast.
“I don’t often speak,” he said. “But the nice lady is trying to poison you.”
My jaw hung open as my wife hurried into the kitchen.
“Don’t eat that,” she grabbed my plate. “I forgot the syrup.”
My wife saturated my pancakes with a thick gooey liquid and plopped the plate down in front of me. Tenderly, she kissed my forehead then sat down to eat her omelet. The dog winked at me.
I don’t know which was more disturbing; the dog or my wife.
Red Velvet Jones 