A man is whatever room he's in.

A man is whatever room he's in.

A dog is whatever is next to him.

So naturally I taunted him. "Tell me what you eat, and I'll tell you what you are." The dog had the right to remain silent, but he surprised me with his calm eloquence:

"Do I have Buddha nature or not?" the dog asked. "Throw me a bone here." Fluffy's "enlightenment" was really getting on my nerves. "Bad boy," I said. "No more Eastern paradoxes."

The dog, miffed, strolled across the water. "And no more miracles either!" Fluffy gave me that holier-than-thou look. I knew then he would climb on the furniture.

Yappy little mutt! Good thing I'd doused the sofa generously with cayenne pepper and loaded his food bowl with chocolate! He'd think twice or more about chewing slippers again!

He lapped up the food in the bowl the pepper-laced soda. In less than a minute he was yelping like a truck ran over him and frantically started chasing his own tail. He doubled up

one ice cream sandwiches to combat the "after burners." That lousy human had put hot sauce in his Alpo. He napped and awaited for a brilliant revenge to occur to his canine

cunning cortex, but it had been blunted by domestication. In his dream he chased a mouse wearing a giant sombrero & woke up with a bang as his head hit the gas grill canister