It was always something, and Stan was guilty of many things… but not this one.
They said they only had a few questions. That was an hour ago and still here I sit. I didn’t do it. But I can’t tell them that when it happened, I was with Nanette the poodle from next door. They wouldn’t believe me anyway, she’s some kind of high-class dog and I’m a mutt. But she is a randy bitch. When she swished by me with that fine-smelling ass–. I shook my head. Stop thinking of that and of her. I know who did it. That fucking cat hasn’t liked me since day one. Now, how can I prove it to them?
Want to read more of what happens with Stan, his adventures and experiences as a low down dog in an upscale neighborhood?
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