Dogs and Disks
Disclaimer:
The breeder owns herself, as do my teachers and I do. The disk is my own
personal property, and its voice is a product of my own deranged
imagination. Romeo and Jewel are my family's, so I assume that it's okay
with them for me to write this strange story. "Sparky" probably belongs to
another family now, and I'd ask permission but I have no idea where to find
them. I doubt that they'd mind, anyway.
The breeder's husband is my own character; you may use it if you desire.
In short, all characters are based on ones in real life but are very
sarcastic versions, and you may use any of them in a story as long as you
A) ask me first and B) send me the url to the website once the story is
posted.
Author's note: Shortly after I stopped updating, the disk that this story was on nearly crashed. This story was one of the only ones I managed to save and transfer. Coincidence? I think not. ;)
In addition: I have no idea if I'm going to finish this. I wrote it out of boredom and sent it to one person, who liked it. If you hate it and the overwhelming responses are flames, I'll take it down and we can pretend it never existed. If enough people actually want me to continue, I'll see what I can do.
Enjoy!
********
As the young senior walked from her lunch period past the student school store, she had the sudden impulse to buy a vast set of computer disks. Why she had this urge was beyond her, although it is true that the disks could serve uses. Surely in each class owning a disk could be considered useful; even in her math class a disk could serve some uses. Another potential reason for wishing to buy disks would be to work on some of her stories, ideas that were continually being formed in her head. Yet why she chose then to buy the disk, as it was only the third true day of classes, she did not know.
Having nothing better to do, the girl went into the store and bought seven disks. Five would be for classes, and two could be for other purposes. Or, if it is desired, she could use one as a backup for one of the five in case one of those became damaged in the horror of her Backpack. Disks were often broken this way for the girl, and though she piously vowed to be more cautious, the disks would still break as though they were commanded to make her life miserable by the girl's younger sister, the 11th most popular person in her grade.
Given all of this somewhat useless information, it seemed to make sense for the young girl to purchase an ample supply of disks, and she knew that with her luck the disks would last less than a month. She also knew that owning a disk meant that she could pretend to be working on a school assignment or the like while she was really checking her email, a usual offense in her school yet treated- sometimes- with threats of detentions. Had the girl received a detention for every time she checked her email, she would stay after school each day of the year and then on weekends. Most likely, however, this is the case for every student at her school, even the alleged goodie goodies who actually went into the computer lab during their free periods in order to discuss current events with others.
Homework, the girl decided as she chewed her lip while focusing on some impossible math problems, would be much easier if grades were not given, and smiley faces were given to everyone. But she was not in middle school anymore, nor was she in 9th, 10th, or even 11th grade. She had entered her Senior Year where she and the others of her class would be expected to lead the school. They had received numerous lectures on responsibility and respect, all boiling down to, "Don't act like you're better than anyone else just because you're older, and please don't do drugs because then not only would we have to expel you, but others would follow and it makes it hard to clamp down on a rebellion when so many are involved. Be sure to have fun and study all day and all night and never under any circumstances leave your home except to go to a school sponsored lecture or activity. Above all, enjoy the year because soon you'll be out of our lives and out of each others' so make the most of it."
The disks in the student store sat waiting while all of this exchange of dialogue was going on, knowing that soon they would be purchased and then be broken, made to process useless data for useless term papers that would receive poor grades, or worse, made to download pointless games that would never work outside of the school's computer lab because of a bizarre virus that was yet to be discovered but everyone knew existed because otherwise their lives would not be as torturous in school. No doubt, then, that the virus was invented by the teachers as a way of torturing the poor students who earnestly tried to do their homework and had the nerve to hope for a passing grade on it.
The disks were unable to talk to each other since not only had they no mouths, but they were in fact inanimate objects, lacking of any sort of feelings and doing only what they were programmed to do. This description described many of the students- and often the younger ones- at the school the girl went to.
The girl was proud to consider herself as an unprogrammed individual, who sought to please her teachers in hopes of being well liked or getting a better grade. On the rare occasion that she met a teacher she esteemed, this acting would become real and she would often end up with an A in the class.
Strangely enough, the other students would all get C's or worse.
This is not the story of a disk, nor a teacher gone astray -as that is hardly anything new- or even of the corrupt computer who froze every five minutes because it believed robotic bunnies were out to attack him. This is not the tale of the girl, for she is interesting enough and has a strange enough family, but that story must be told by someone else who has the time and interest.
This is the story of the girl's dogs. It is not a very complex story, for there is only so much that dogs know about, since their world revolves around food and sleep. But it contains elements of interest and for that reason they find it necessary for everyone alive to read. I am skeptical that this will ever happen, for even if the story actually becomes read by anyone remotely interesting, most of the world will remain illiterate and therefore could hear the story but not actually read it.
Explaining this to two overenthusiastic dogs is next to impossible given that they do not even know the command for "roll over" yet. No doubt this will end up being discarded by most, but I can rest easy at night knowing I have done my duty to the dogs. You will find the grammar to be better than most, because as these dogs dictate to me, I must correct their frequent errors. Even so, I have tried to make this as true to form as possible. Although enjoying this memoir would be next to impossible, I humbly request that the reader makes every effort to do so, and have enclosed two photos of these dogs as a way to induce pity for this poor, starving writer. Having said all that should be said by a failure of a disk in life, I now leave you as the Backpack crushes me and ruins my data.
Chapter 1.
A long time ago in a small yet well furnished house lived a woman who was a failure in everything by the time she turned twenty. Realizing this a bit too late, she settled on marriage to the first sober man she saw, promising him a million dollars if he would agree. Sadly, her income would not allow this promise to be kept, and after realizing this two years after the wedding date, he deserted her and stole her favorite goldfish.
The woman mourned and wept and did all of the sort of things that one who had lost their husband and favorite pet could do. This went on for years, and finally one of her friends told her to get a life and suggested getting a dog, since he would not care that she had no beauty whatsoever as long as he got walks and food. The woman was skeptical but finally agreed and bought a dog from a Good Breeder who happened to live across the street from her all of these years. She bought a beautiful black Yorkshire Terrier who slept with her every night and the two lived in perfect happiness until he contacted liver shunt and had a near death experience one night. The woman wept again and moaned and grieved and the poor dog nearly died again for fear of causing grief to his beloved master and fell into great depression.
Finally, the woman decided; "If I can't have him, I'll get me another ten!"
So she went to the breeder and bought another. She forgot to have her fixed and the male Yorkie, who she had named Buttercup, soon impregnated the female, who she called Beauty, and not wanting to kill the litter, she went to the breeder and asked exactly what to do when your beloved dog was pregnant. The breeder replied that Beauty was sterile and this was impossible, but the woman swore it was so and went to the vet to confirm it. She ended up being correct and the breeder was shocked and gasped and sputtered before giving her any useful sort of information.
It turned out that the two dogs had a few nasty recessive genes a few generations back, and if the puppies lived past the age of two they would live the rest of their lives. The woman said that she would take that chance and she wanted her beloved Buttercup to experience Being A Father before he passed on. The breeder said fine and told the woman what to do and the woman thanked him and asked if there would be blood because she fainted at the sight of it. The breeder sighed and said that he would come over during the date and help her out.
So the date came quickly and the puppies were born. There were seven in all and they were all very cute and very sleepy. The breeder and woman both needed to use much Kleenex throughout the entire process but the woman fainted not once! So the puppies grew and the woman and breeder trained them and later each other and soon eloped under the starry sky and the woman felt that at least she found happiness in her sad and lonely life at the dire age of thirty. She decided to become a breeder.
The man and woman decided to devote their lives to reproducing even the most sterile of dogs and helped many families who had searched long and hard for that Reputable Breeder. Five years later, Romeo and Jewel were born and though Jewel was neglected by her mother because she was considered to be the runt, Romeo was adored by all and was born, or so said the couple, with mischief in his eye.
"ROMEO!" growled Jewel one morning as they woke up on the kitchen floor.
"That's not my name YET!" growled Romeo, who really wanted to be called Albert Whitman Snutch the Third.
"Well it will be soon. Guess what I heard!" Jewel was dancing around and nudging Romeo, or Albert, who was still lying on the floor with his eyes closed. It was a sight that would make many people aww at this six week old puppy.
"What did you hear."
"THAT WE ARE GONNA GET BOUGHT!"
"Don't be so stupid, we're not old enough."
"Yuh huh! I heard it from my mommy-"
"She's my mommy too!" snapped Romeo, opening his eyes and getting into wrestling position. Jewel, to his delight, backed down.
"Well anyway, I heard from the mommy that, that, that!"
"That WHAT? I am TRYING to take a nap, here!"
"THAT WE ARE GONNA GET BOUGHT!!!"
"I TOLD you, Jewel, we're too young."
"Well, Mommy said. . ."
"Mommy isn't always right."
"But she said so!"
"Jewel. Leave me alone or else, um, I'll. . ."
"You'll what, huh?!"
"JEWEL!" Romeo jumped on the poor Shih Tzu and began to wrestle. Jewel let out a mix of a growl and a whimper before trying to escape. When this didn't work, she begged the others for help.
"LEMME GO LEMME GO HELP HELP HELP!"
A minute later, Sparky (or Heighlight Ductahan Borkstorm, as her to be owners call her) jumped into the room, a sleepy look in her eyes.
"What's wrong, Jewel?"
She walked over to Romeo and let out a low growl. Romeo sized her up, decided that two against one wasn't fair, and stopped biting Jewel.
"What's going on here?" demanded Sparky, walking over to Romeo and staring him in the eye. "I was trying to take a nap!"
"Jewel woke me up."
"Jewel?" Sparky stared at the black and white puppy; this wasn't like her.
"That's because I wanted to tell him I got great news!"
"Oh? Really? Didja get a new toy? Are you gonna get to sleep in Joan's bed? Really? Really?"
Joan was the breeder.
"MUCH better than that," Jewel replied in a self-satisfied manner. "WE are gonna get bought!"
"ARE YOU ARE YOU REALLY WOW WOW WOW I AM SO HAPPY!" Sparky splattered Jewel with hugs and kisses while Jewel hugged her best friend back. "WHO?!"
"This family that came by recently. They saw you and you hugged 'em, remember? But they said that you were a little wild for 'em."
"Well," grinned Sparky, "guess that's too bad for them. I'm a wild girl, and not gonna change it for anyone!"
"I know it!"
"So, doesn't Romeo want to be bought?"
"He does."
"Then why'd he beat you up?"
"'Cause I woke him up."
"ROMEO!" growled Sparky, advancing on him.
Romeo backed away as he spoke. "That's not the full truth. We're too young to get bought and besides, JEWEL WOKE ME UP!"
"Aww, how cute. You wanna be here forever!"
"That's NOT true. I wanna take a nap and then Jewel comes in and WAKES ME UP and starts barking at me and stuff. ARG!"
"Well, anyway, they visited you before and they like you so they'll come back when you're old enough and THEN buy you!"
"Ohhhh!"
"'Xactly!"
"I KNOW WHO IT WAS! AND THEY ARE REALLY NICE AND HAVE TWO KIDS!!!!"
"KIDS?!?!?!"
"Oh, don't worry, Romeo, Jewel means that they're not adults. Not babies or anything. Maybe 8 and 12 or so. You're okay with those ages, right, Romeo?"
"I guess. . ."
"Don't worry, Romeo, the breeder won't let anyone take us except for the BEST!" replied Jewel, giving him a sloppy kiss.
"Ewwww, girl germs!"
Jewel giggled. "He's silly."
"ALL boys are," replied Sparky. "Now come on! Race ya to the chew toy!"
"No fair, I'm the smallest."
"Okay, then you get a head start."
"How much?"
"Um. . . two inches?"
"TEN FEET!"
"Five inches."
"Seven feet?"
"One inch."
"Four inches!"
"Deal!"
Jewel sniffed Sparky. "Wait, didn't you say five inches earlier."
"Nope. I said seven!" She giggled and even Romeo had to laugh.
Jewel sulked. "Fine. I will take my lead then."
Jewel marched forward seven inches.
"Take three back."
"Make me."
"Okay. Romeo. . ."
"You wouldn't!"
"Or I could take the chew toy now. . ."
"Fine, fine!" Jewel stepped back three inches.
"On your marks, get set, GO!"
The three raced across the room; Romeo easily won.
"OH BOY!"
"You were just lucky," retorted Jewel.
"Hey, you two should get along. If you both just. . . I mean, look. If you get sold to the same people, then you'll NEED to get along," Sparky corrected herself.
"I try to."
"Yeah right! You're always teasing me!" Jewel glared at her brother.
"Only every day. Once. Maybe twice."
"FIVE TIMES EVERY SECOND and that's if she's lucky!"
"See?!"
Romeo pretended to be very busy with his chew toy.
"See?!"
"Oh, let it go. You're the better dog."
Jewel was content with this.
"Arf!"
***********************************************
And so the owners did come and laugh when they saw Romeo and Jewel, and bought them shortly afterwards. And thus began the unusual torment of these poor dogs.
Author's note: Shortly after I stopped updating, the disk that this story was on nearly crashed. This story was one of the only ones I managed to save and transfer. Coincidence? I think not. ;)
In addition: I have no idea if I'm going to finish this. I wrote it out of boredom and sent it to one person, who liked it. If you hate it and the overwhelming responses are flames, I'll take it down and we can pretend it never existed. If enough people actually want me to continue, I'll see what I can do.
Enjoy!
********
As the young senior walked from her lunch period past the student school store, she had the sudden impulse to buy a vast set of computer disks. Why she had this urge was beyond her, although it is true that the disks could serve uses. Surely in each class owning a disk could be considered useful; even in her math class a disk could serve some uses. Another potential reason for wishing to buy disks would be to work on some of her stories, ideas that were continually being formed in her head. Yet why she chose then to buy the disk, as it was only the third true day of classes, she did not know.
Having nothing better to do, the girl went into the store and bought seven disks. Five would be for classes, and two could be for other purposes. Or, if it is desired, she could use one as a backup for one of the five in case one of those became damaged in the horror of her Backpack. Disks were often broken this way for the girl, and though she piously vowed to be more cautious, the disks would still break as though they were commanded to make her life miserable by the girl's younger sister, the 11th most popular person in her grade.
Given all of this somewhat useless information, it seemed to make sense for the young girl to purchase an ample supply of disks, and she knew that with her luck the disks would last less than a month. She also knew that owning a disk meant that she could pretend to be working on a school assignment or the like while she was really checking her email, a usual offense in her school yet treated- sometimes- with threats of detentions. Had the girl received a detention for every time she checked her email, she would stay after school each day of the year and then on weekends. Most likely, however, this is the case for every student at her school, even the alleged goodie goodies who actually went into the computer lab during their free periods in order to discuss current events with others.
Homework, the girl decided as she chewed her lip while focusing on some impossible math problems, would be much easier if grades were not given, and smiley faces were given to everyone. But she was not in middle school anymore, nor was she in 9th, 10th, or even 11th grade. She had entered her Senior Year where she and the others of her class would be expected to lead the school. They had received numerous lectures on responsibility and respect, all boiling down to, "Don't act like you're better than anyone else just because you're older, and please don't do drugs because then not only would we have to expel you, but others would follow and it makes it hard to clamp down on a rebellion when so many are involved. Be sure to have fun and study all day and all night and never under any circumstances leave your home except to go to a school sponsored lecture or activity. Above all, enjoy the year because soon you'll be out of our lives and out of each others' so make the most of it."
The disks in the student store sat waiting while all of this exchange of dialogue was going on, knowing that soon they would be purchased and then be broken, made to process useless data for useless term papers that would receive poor grades, or worse, made to download pointless games that would never work outside of the school's computer lab because of a bizarre virus that was yet to be discovered but everyone knew existed because otherwise their lives would not be as torturous in school. No doubt, then, that the virus was invented by the teachers as a way of torturing the poor students who earnestly tried to do their homework and had the nerve to hope for a passing grade on it.
The disks were unable to talk to each other since not only had they no mouths, but they were in fact inanimate objects, lacking of any sort of feelings and doing only what they were programmed to do. This description described many of the students- and often the younger ones- at the school the girl went to.
The girl was proud to consider herself as an unprogrammed individual, who sought to please her teachers in hopes of being well liked or getting a better grade. On the rare occasion that she met a teacher she esteemed, this acting would become real and she would often end up with an A in the class.
Strangely enough, the other students would all get C's or worse.
This is not the story of a disk, nor a teacher gone astray -as that is hardly anything new- or even of the corrupt computer who froze every five minutes because it believed robotic bunnies were out to attack him. This is not the tale of the girl, for she is interesting enough and has a strange enough family, but that story must be told by someone else who has the time and interest.
This is the story of the girl's dogs. It is not a very complex story, for there is only so much that dogs know about, since their world revolves around food and sleep. But it contains elements of interest and for that reason they find it necessary for everyone alive to read. I am skeptical that this will ever happen, for even if the story actually becomes read by anyone remotely interesting, most of the world will remain illiterate and therefore could hear the story but not actually read it.
Explaining this to two overenthusiastic dogs is next to impossible given that they do not even know the command for "roll over" yet. No doubt this will end up being discarded by most, but I can rest easy at night knowing I have done my duty to the dogs. You will find the grammar to be better than most, because as these dogs dictate to me, I must correct their frequent errors. Even so, I have tried to make this as true to form as possible. Although enjoying this memoir would be next to impossible, I humbly request that the reader makes every effort to do so, and have enclosed two photos of these dogs as a way to induce pity for this poor, starving writer. Having said all that should be said by a failure of a disk in life, I now leave you as the Backpack crushes me and ruins my data.
Chapter 1.
A long time ago in a small yet well furnished house lived a woman who was a failure in everything by the time she turned twenty. Realizing this a bit too late, she settled on marriage to the first sober man she saw, promising him a million dollars if he would agree. Sadly, her income would not allow this promise to be kept, and after realizing this two years after the wedding date, he deserted her and stole her favorite goldfish.
The woman mourned and wept and did all of the sort of things that one who had lost their husband and favorite pet could do. This went on for years, and finally one of her friends told her to get a life and suggested getting a dog, since he would not care that she had no beauty whatsoever as long as he got walks and food. The woman was skeptical but finally agreed and bought a dog from a Good Breeder who happened to live across the street from her all of these years. She bought a beautiful black Yorkshire Terrier who slept with her every night and the two lived in perfect happiness until he contacted liver shunt and had a near death experience one night. The woman wept again and moaned and grieved and the poor dog nearly died again for fear of causing grief to his beloved master and fell into great depression.
Finally, the woman decided; "If I can't have him, I'll get me another ten!"
So she went to the breeder and bought another. She forgot to have her fixed and the male Yorkie, who she had named Buttercup, soon impregnated the female, who she called Beauty, and not wanting to kill the litter, she went to the breeder and asked exactly what to do when your beloved dog was pregnant. The breeder replied that Beauty was sterile and this was impossible, but the woman swore it was so and went to the vet to confirm it. She ended up being correct and the breeder was shocked and gasped and sputtered before giving her any useful sort of information.
It turned out that the two dogs had a few nasty recessive genes a few generations back, and if the puppies lived past the age of two they would live the rest of their lives. The woman said that she would take that chance and she wanted her beloved Buttercup to experience Being A Father before he passed on. The breeder said fine and told the woman what to do and the woman thanked him and asked if there would be blood because she fainted at the sight of it. The breeder sighed and said that he would come over during the date and help her out.
So the date came quickly and the puppies were born. There were seven in all and they were all very cute and very sleepy. The breeder and woman both needed to use much Kleenex throughout the entire process but the woman fainted not once! So the puppies grew and the woman and breeder trained them and later each other and soon eloped under the starry sky and the woman felt that at least she found happiness in her sad and lonely life at the dire age of thirty. She decided to become a breeder.
The man and woman decided to devote their lives to reproducing even the most sterile of dogs and helped many families who had searched long and hard for that Reputable Breeder. Five years later, Romeo and Jewel were born and though Jewel was neglected by her mother because she was considered to be the runt, Romeo was adored by all and was born, or so said the couple, with mischief in his eye.
"ROMEO!" growled Jewel one morning as they woke up on the kitchen floor.
"That's not my name YET!" growled Romeo, who really wanted to be called Albert Whitman Snutch the Third.
"Well it will be soon. Guess what I heard!" Jewel was dancing around and nudging Romeo, or Albert, who was still lying on the floor with his eyes closed. It was a sight that would make many people aww at this six week old puppy.
"What did you hear."
"THAT WE ARE GONNA GET BOUGHT!"
"Don't be so stupid, we're not old enough."
"Yuh huh! I heard it from my mommy-"
"She's my mommy too!" snapped Romeo, opening his eyes and getting into wrestling position. Jewel, to his delight, backed down.
"Well anyway, I heard from the mommy that, that, that!"
"That WHAT? I am TRYING to take a nap, here!"
"THAT WE ARE GONNA GET BOUGHT!!!"
"I TOLD you, Jewel, we're too young."
"Well, Mommy said. . ."
"Mommy isn't always right."
"But she said so!"
"Jewel. Leave me alone or else, um, I'll. . ."
"You'll what, huh?!"
"JEWEL!" Romeo jumped on the poor Shih Tzu and began to wrestle. Jewel let out a mix of a growl and a whimper before trying to escape. When this didn't work, she begged the others for help.
"LEMME GO LEMME GO HELP HELP HELP!"
A minute later, Sparky (or Heighlight Ductahan Borkstorm, as her to be owners call her) jumped into the room, a sleepy look in her eyes.
"What's wrong, Jewel?"
She walked over to Romeo and let out a low growl. Romeo sized her up, decided that two against one wasn't fair, and stopped biting Jewel.
"What's going on here?" demanded Sparky, walking over to Romeo and staring him in the eye. "I was trying to take a nap!"
"Jewel woke me up."
"Jewel?" Sparky stared at the black and white puppy; this wasn't like her.
"That's because I wanted to tell him I got great news!"
"Oh? Really? Didja get a new toy? Are you gonna get to sleep in Joan's bed? Really? Really?"
Joan was the breeder.
"MUCH better than that," Jewel replied in a self-satisfied manner. "WE are gonna get bought!"
"ARE YOU ARE YOU REALLY WOW WOW WOW I AM SO HAPPY!" Sparky splattered Jewel with hugs and kisses while Jewel hugged her best friend back. "WHO?!"
"This family that came by recently. They saw you and you hugged 'em, remember? But they said that you were a little wild for 'em."
"Well," grinned Sparky, "guess that's too bad for them. I'm a wild girl, and not gonna change it for anyone!"
"I know it!"
"So, doesn't Romeo want to be bought?"
"He does."
"Then why'd he beat you up?"
"'Cause I woke him up."
"ROMEO!" growled Sparky, advancing on him.
Romeo backed away as he spoke. "That's not the full truth. We're too young to get bought and besides, JEWEL WOKE ME UP!"
"Aww, how cute. You wanna be here forever!"
"That's NOT true. I wanna take a nap and then Jewel comes in and WAKES ME UP and starts barking at me and stuff. ARG!"
"Well, anyway, they visited you before and they like you so they'll come back when you're old enough and THEN buy you!"
"Ohhhh!"
"'Xactly!"
"I KNOW WHO IT WAS! AND THEY ARE REALLY NICE AND HAVE TWO KIDS!!!!"
"KIDS?!?!?!"
"Oh, don't worry, Romeo, Jewel means that they're not adults. Not babies or anything. Maybe 8 and 12 or so. You're okay with those ages, right, Romeo?"
"I guess. . ."
"Don't worry, Romeo, the breeder won't let anyone take us except for the BEST!" replied Jewel, giving him a sloppy kiss.
"Ewwww, girl germs!"
Jewel giggled. "He's silly."
"ALL boys are," replied Sparky. "Now come on! Race ya to the chew toy!"
"No fair, I'm the smallest."
"Okay, then you get a head start."
"How much?"
"Um. . . two inches?"
"TEN FEET!"
"Five inches."
"Seven feet?"
"One inch."
"Four inches!"
"Deal!"
Jewel sniffed Sparky. "Wait, didn't you say five inches earlier."
"Nope. I said seven!" She giggled and even Romeo had to laugh.
Jewel sulked. "Fine. I will take my lead then."
Jewel marched forward seven inches.
"Take three back."
"Make me."
"Okay. Romeo. . ."
"You wouldn't!"
"Or I could take the chew toy now. . ."
"Fine, fine!" Jewel stepped back three inches.
"On your marks, get set, GO!"
The three raced across the room; Romeo easily won.
"OH BOY!"
"You were just lucky," retorted Jewel.
"Hey, you two should get along. If you both just. . . I mean, look. If you get sold to the same people, then you'll NEED to get along," Sparky corrected herself.
"I try to."
"Yeah right! You're always teasing me!" Jewel glared at her brother.
"Only every day. Once. Maybe twice."
"FIVE TIMES EVERY SECOND and that's if she's lucky!"
"See?!"
Romeo pretended to be very busy with his chew toy.
"See?!"
"Oh, let it go. You're the better dog."
Jewel was content with this.
"Arf!"
***********************************************
And so the owners did come and laugh when they saw Romeo and Jewel, and bought them shortly afterwards. And thus began the unusual torment of these poor dogs.