Missy: My Dear Friend, why are you so short with that sweet little Bebe thing?
Gil: Sister’s right, Man. You do get a bit testy with Bebe.
Me: Oh, guys! Give Uncle Rocky a break! At least he’s not snarling at Bebe any more.
Missy: Truer words were never spoken, Marica. Why, when Bebe was just a little pile of pooping protoplasm, I thought My Dear Friend was going to eat her in one bite! What a snarl you had, Rocky!
Gil: Ahhh… . Snarl loudly and you almost never need to bite.
Missy: So, My Dear Friend, you have come to accept Bebe as part of your pack, in your own special way?
Gil: Hey, man! Chill. It’s cool.
Missy: Good night, Dear Friend, good night. And good night to you, too, you Long Haired Hippy Dog. Oh! By the way. If you don’t mind my asking. Have you managed to get those branches you picked up in the pasture run today freed from your hind quarters? I know you are a Hippy & all but … .
Gil: Got almost all of them. And while we are on the subject, may I ask a favor?
Missy: Of course!
Gil: I hope you’ll understand where I am coming from.
Missy: I will, of course, try my best
Gil: I live a double life. Here on the Farm I am a dog– albeit a long haired hippy dog. At my other home, with just Daughter C & J, I am perceived to be just another hippy yippie dog. I am better than that– and so is Bebe. I am a dog! Bebe and I are DOGS!
Missy: Hummm. I have read about circumstances such as these.
Gil: THAT’S IT!
Me: Oh. So you don’t want me to call you a long-haired hippy dog any more?
Me: Okay! Giilllbbeerrrt… The Former Long-Haired Hippy Dog Who Came to His Senses!
Missy: RIght on, man!