UNITED STATES—I Luna am still up to my old tricks. Why today and this 24-karat sunny day, my master traipsed outside in his bare feet, as he is won’t to do. There was leafy wet debris from the dawn’s rainfall and there was also a squishing sound. He still is working, honing, that ability to accept this accidents without instantly coughing out a most un holy curse.
And it couldn’t be retracted. It was out of his mouth, tinged by rage and softened by a chuckle. My “master” was rehearsing his reaction. It was all over the rubber protector on his leather soles. The rich, awful stench rose. And the thing that got his goat most of all was the knowledge that this could have been averted by use of the phone flashlight, But that was altogether to proactive for the master to bother with on the few remaining steps to the front porch.
“Master,” I bark and whine, “Face it. You are lazy. Lupe is head to train you, put you in Marine shape. Ready for whatever surprises may come. And heaven forbid that you let your guard down for one nan-second.”
It was mid-morning when the bright sun vanquished the storm clouds. Master, jumped right into the task of bagging and trashing some rather formidable examples of my good digestion. It darn near filled one of the large green bags supplied by the local “penthouse apartments.”
That sounds a little fishy, I say without meaning to cast aspersions on that wonderful sleek species and inhabits lakes and seas. But good ol’ Lupe, thinks that the real estate propagandists are pushing a whopper on us.
Not all the floors can be the penthouse, only the floor on top. And ol’ Lupe, excuse me Luna, rather, that’s what I prefer to be called. It’s moon on Spanish, and what better way to go through this spiritual time of the yellow moon, an expression ancient traditions.
Also, Luna is a fine alias to throw certain unfortunate souls of the track if my misbehavior. Which has pained my master to no end, as my friendly nips and tugs have resulted is rabies tests for at least one of my victims. Then there was the strange case of the woman who claimed I caused her whiplash.
We can only conclude that that unfortunate may’ve been watching too many 70’s reruns. And gotten the idea from the requisite whiplash episode.
