A Lovely Irish Spring


“Yes, Missy? What’s up?”

“Okay. Well. I’m not entirely certain how to properly and politely phrase my question… ”

“How about just asking it Missy? You are a pretty articulate for a dog. What’s on your mind?”

“Well. Okay. But I’d feel ever so much more comfortable if Emily or Amy or Miss M were helping me.”

“Well, I’m not in the mood to get Emily or Amy off the shelf and Miss M’s lights are off so if you have a question, you need to spit it out.”


“Oh Rocky! You are so funny!! Spit. It. Out. Drop. It! That’s hilarious!”


“What’s your question, Missy?”

“Okay. Here goes. What the Mother Fu…”


“MISSY! You go find that bar of Irish Spring and wash your mouth out!”

“Okay. okay. But I am confused. I say I can’t express myself and you tell me to express myself and I get in trouble expressing myself and all I really want to know is what the F, I mean, what is happening?”


“Ah. Miss M is getting ready to take a road trip.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME??  The Old Boy says the one and only word in his extensive vocabulary and you answer him? And I– I who have been trying to improve my already quite impressive vocabulary by learning Sailor talk– I can’t get a straight answer!?!”


“Oh, man. Rocky! That’s a good idea. Hey Missy! You should learn Latin.”


“Read & Write Latin Missy! How cool would that be?”


“Okay. That’s it. I’m never watching NFL foo talking to you two ever again. Ever.”