SPAL: Boy, is mummsy mad right now. This morning she was cornered by the woman in the hoodie. I thought Hair Ball was going to eat her ankles.
HB: I should’ve. Bad Neighborhood Nazi. Thinking mummsy doesn’t pick up our poops. ( gives a low growling wolf)
SPAL: Calm down. Okay. Daddy-o’s sleeping. And, I’m trying to get this blog done.
HB: I’m upset they blame us for that ugly albino Doberman’s poop who thinks he’s so big and tough.
SPAL: If you didn’t notice, dumb-dumb, he’s a giant. Wonder if the Neighborhood Nazi’s even notice? And then there’s the Black Lab and the Pit Bull twins.
HB: Yeah! Torpedo poopers.
SPAL: Yeah! Their poops litter the sidewalks.
SPAL: There are signs everywhere. Can’t these other dogs read? Like me?
HB: Well, not every dog’s a pansy like you.
SPAL: I’d rather be a pansy than a hair ball….and stop interrupting. I thought we were having a conversation about those Neighborhood Nazi’s. And, I’ve got to finish my blog for today.
HB: Yeah. Mummsy made that name up. (giggles) Neighborhood Nazis.
SPAL: Yes, she did. She says there’s three of them that she sees daily. Walking around with their pads and pencils. They even dig through garbage.
HB: Mummsy says that’s bad. We get in trouble for that.
SPAL: I know…anyway, she says we live in a mini luxury internment camp with spies. And, there’s one way in and one way out.
HB: What does that mean?
SPAL: I think we live in some kind of prison.
SPAL: I heard mummsy telling daddy-o that the Neighborhood Nazis may come take our DNA.
HB: What’s that?
SPAL: Not real sure…but mummsy says that the Neighborhood Nazis might come swab our bum holes. Maybe even our mouths. It would be a way of determining who’s leaving poop on the sidewalks.
HB: I’ll bite ‘em. I’ll beat ‘em up. They’re not touching me. I don’t like them mean ole Neighborhood Nazis. (he barks and growls)
SPAL: Shhh! You’re going to wake up daddy-o.
HB: Well, what are we going to do about those Neighborhood Nazis taking our DNA? How are we going to stop them?
SPAL: Use the upstairs bathroom.