Russell Jenkins thought he could thwart my foot-licking-prevention plan tonight– he’s got a sore on a back paw, origin unknown, that started little and has since developed into something I don’t want to look at and that he needs to take antibiotics for.
He says: “Tell you what fool, I’m going to winch off this boot while you’re not looking and lose it on the walk tonight.”
Me says: “Oh, dammit, Russell, where’s your boot? You lost it on the walk?”
He says: “Yes, fattie! Mwahhahahaha!”
Me says: “Boots come in packs of four, fool –and also, you’re a fattie, too.”
I win this one. We’ll see if it’s still on his foot in the morning.