Little Filthy. Why, dog, why?
Little Filthy is so named because he has a very bad habit of…how shall I say it…he indulges in his own creations. This would not be quite so possible were it not for the fact that he is box trained and so if I do not know he’s made a deposit, he may make himself a withdrawal before I am aware of the situation. Hence…Little Filthy.
I made a curry for dinner tonight. I placed a bowl of the dish on my coffee table and got up to grab a bottle of water and got distracted by a phone call and some e-mails. I ate with the phone in one hand while I pitched old magazines off the table (do I really need the last 6 months of Wired magazine? No.). I was about half finished when Little Filthy jumped up on the couch and put his paws on my leg and banged his face into my cheek. This isn’t too unusual. He kisses like a drunk driver. I swiped my hand across my cheek and …it came back a little brown.
I sat there stunned at the thought that the dog has just sideswiped me with his baked potato. I jumped up and washed my cheek and hand and then looked at his box…it was clean. What the hell?
Then I realized…that monster had been eating my curry. The same curry that I then ate for dinner. And now I don’t know if I’m more worried about what his box is going to look like or that I ate my dinner after him.
ugh.

Just a random attorney writing about daily life with Little Filthy, my rotten dog.