What a happy crew we are, all our tails wagging as our owners talk. Listen to them guzzling their coffee and cake’s, all we get, if we are lucky is a bowl of water.
We should to go on strike, we could refuse to go walking, and turn our noses up at cheap biscuits, and as for letting them stroke us, let’s not. What do you say Rover and what about you Finn, or you Buster. If we all bark they will have to take notice of us:
I say is that a piece of cake coming my way…
Flash fiction: 1-1-2016. In response to the Friday Fictioneers site. Photo credit: Jean L Hays.