That was one of those days, that day I froze in Barnesboro, when I came home and undoubtedly found our dog, Rusty, lying in front of the heat vent on the floor. Damn Rusty was always hogging that heat vent. He knew, he knew, and he'd try affection as compensation. You'd come home frozen and he'd be lying there and he'd look at you and wag his tail and lift his leg to be scratched, "Hi! How are you I am fine." He wouldn't move, he'd just be friendly. When you tried to move him he'd go all inert on you, like he was a poor, paralyzed child. Bet I got his lazy dog ass away from the heat vent that day on the double-quick, and with prejudice, hoo-doggie. Damn lazy ass dog. Loved that dog.
