Meade's Ball
Well-known member
Spit the dog, let off the leash and running at the simple-minded, conspiratorial commentary of those out-of-the-know. I had him/it sat on my hand one afternoon gobbing off at the elderly as they rolled or limped on by. I asked why he felt such little respect for senior citizens and he growled something in dog in my ear before phlegming a hefty one on my glasses and sniggering at my temporarily limited vision. As per usual, by mid-afternoon i was due a snooze and only woke for a moment at one point to see him drag his inactive body of poorly-stitched fur and unfilled baby-sock limbs into the sunset with his giant wet tongue. He was gone and i had no one to talk to, no one to hold, no one to stick my forearm in. I'd welcome his return if he ever felt the urge to. Come back Spit, whoever's arm you went off to mount.
