| Hiss, Whine |
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| Excerpt |
| Sometimes the road taken is a gritty path full of chuckholes. |
| And that's what makes it worthwhile. |
| & Start Over |
We call them dumb animals, and so they are, for they cannot tell us how they feel,
but they do not suffer less because they have no words.
but they do not suffer less because they have no words.
Something about the words across Darrell’s chest just didn’t fit in with the spirit of Christmas Day. Let’s face facts. The problem wasn’t the brash words above the picture of a militant, double- muscled pit bull. Actually, the T-shirt’s message to neuter pets was both clever and admirable. The real problem was that, effective twenty-four hours ago, Carly was in charge of the Humane Society, whether she wanted to be or not. So if any employee counseling were needed, the odious task would fall squarely in her lap. Her stomach roiled at the thought of having to reprimand Darrell. Or any employee for that matter. Should she pull Darrell aside and explain that although the T-shirt’s words might sound right at home in a hockey rink, they were unsuitable for a place of business? Naw. She shooed away the idea like a cow’s tail whisked away pesky flies. If and when he wore the T-shirt on a day the shelter was open to the public, then a little one-on-one talk would be in order. Carly, Darrell, and Penny were the three employees who signed up for December 25th pooper-scooper duty. Carly volunteered because, well, why not? Her parents were still living on the farm in Iowa. Her ex-husband was still—as far as she knew—living with Jocelyn. Her cats were still curled up in front of last night’s Yule log. Besides, she’d taken care of patients and boarders for eight Christmas mornings at her former job at Doc Griffin’s veterinary hospital. It just didn’t seem like Christmas without soupy turkey and giblets spilling from a pull-top can and bright eyes looking for a scratch under the chin. |
| — Anna Sewell Author, Black Beauty |
Hiss
Whine
Whine
