Come into the Garden

By aprecious

Choose Life

Choose Life. Choose a walk. Choose sheep. Choose a family. Choose a blooming big house with grounds, choose stuffed toys, balls, aerobie orange frisbees and a food in a dish twice a day. Choose good health, dog breath, and vet insurance. Choose fixed interest kennel repayments. Choose a cage in the kitchen. Choose your friends (*waves*) Choose dog towels and matching collars. Choose a cloth basket in a range of blooming fabrics. Choose playing with cats and wondering what the heck you are on a Sunday morning. Cat? Dog? Mutant? (Ninja Turtle?) Choose sitting in that basket watching mind-numbing, spirit-taming people (aprecious and Snotty guilty as charged), stuffing flipping treats into your mouth for simple tasks you could do in your sleep. Choose doing as you're told at the end of it all, pishing where you are told, nothing more than a lap dog to the self obsessed self centred really nice people you've been stuck with and who keep fooling you into behaving with that little purple clicker...

I chose not to choose life. I chose something else. I chose naughtiness

(in your dreams Maud)

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