Dear Slow,

Thanks so much for the pictures you sent Pretty of the New Dog on Worsham Street.  Pretty was kind enough to share them with the Pack at Casa de Canterbury this evening.


Sweet Jesus.   It’s Rin Tin Tin.   Or maybe Roy Rogers’s dog Bullet… lying down in MY front yard in the ‘Hood on Worsham in Texas.   Is this what you do for fun without The Red Man?   Go around picking up STRAYS, for God’s sake.   What’s next?   C-A-T-S?????   I shudder to think.   You’ve been down there too long without me.

Swell.   Make yourself at home, Stray Dog.  Stretch out in MY nice soft grass, why don’t you.   Shit house mouse.   I give up.   I swear you can’t be trusted in Texas by yourself, Slow.    You really are a daffy old twit after all.

Surely this is a temporary situation.   What’s that you say, Pretty?   She’s named the dog Spike.   Well, Snap my Paws and saddle up the Dodge Dakota.   I’m coming down there by hook or by crook, old woman, so you better be shipping Spike to a different destination.

We’ll see what Pretty has to say about this new development, and I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes when she gives you a piece of her mind.   I pity you.

Here’s hoping this letter finds you well and happy,

                         The Red Man

P.S. I hope that isn’t one of my TREATS next to the Stray Dog in MY yard.    Seriously.  For your sake.