Who are these mysterious men that everyone speaks of?
They say that if you find the men they call Will, you will find your way and jolly
jig-golly do I need that.
Maybe it is because of my handicapped “midget legs” -
as the other dogs at the park sometimes refer to me as - or this recession (that I predicted YEARS ago), but I am lost in life and have damn sure not been found yet!
What to do?
What to do for a business dog like myself?
Sometimes, I feel like my ideas are just bigger than my ears. Maybe the rest of the world simply is not ready for me.
As Nietzsche once proclaimed, 'the day after tomorrow will belong to me!' - and I am sure of it. Nonetheless, I have looked low and lower, smelled for Will in bushes, peered for him in lady’s skirts, and even take a “lucky Will wee” on my Master’s video entertainment box every night before I go to bed.
Can’t anybody help a puppy out?
