Amour Propre

I am not a barbarian. My fur is as soft as a puppy’s. It will never get hard and wiry. My feet are so clean they are proper. And when you say it, you should pronounce it like the French: propre.

The Runt’s feet are big and dirty. When The Bald Man finishes cleaning them, the towel looks like it has been pulled out of somebody’s ass. Poor Runt. He was born hard and wiry. He can not help it. I would feel sorry for him, but he is too simple to pity.

There are some nights, while the big screen is on, where I just sit and clean my feet. I will do that for hours. Except the Bald Man stops me. He says, “Stop biting your feet!” And I look at him with disdain. My God. Most of the time, he smells worse than I do.