Peppermint Patti
By Peppermint Patti
JOTR Columnist
I hear them talk about it, Sophie, and there’s only one word for what I feel.
Angst.
If they go through with this thing, Sophie, I have a big question:
Where am I gonna sit?
Once again, the age-old problem pokes its head up.
Nobody thinks about the dog.
I am by definition, Sophie, a lap dog.
A lap dog is what I am.
It follows that I get extreme pleasure from sitting on the laps of two-leggers.
And, two-leggers get extreme pleasure — not to mention free bodily warmth — from hosting me on their laps.
Obviously, they have not thought this plan through to its consequences for two-legger and dog alike.
All they can think about is how there won’t be a mess of newspapers piling up, and they can read lots of newspapers instead of just one and oh yes! — archive the articles they want to read again or send to a friend.
None of that makes a wit of difference to a dog.
Have you ever watched a two-legger read a newspaper?
They hold it in their hands, in front of their eyes.
The lap is free.
Free for a dog to lie on.
That is the purpose of the newspaper.
Lap time for dogs.
That is what a lap dog is all about.
Let me ask you this, Sophie: If they fill their laps with a dumputer, where’s the dog to sit?
Laptop or lap dog — one of us has got to go.
