October 13th 2004 11:41 am
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I used ta be an orphan. I begged for scraps. Slept under a car. Dint weigh much.
Jus' like most any dog in my country.
But then I got 'dopted. By a family of pitbulls. From 'Merica.
Now I'm fat. REAL FAT. I bob like a cork in the water. They don't call me PorkChop fer nothin'.
Can't help myself. Gotta eat. EVERYTHING.
All the time. Dead fish, old hamburg wrappers, doesn't matter what. I want it.
They t'ink it stems from my puppyhood deprivation.
But I gotta tell ya, it's my breedin'. Or lack thereof.
Cuz I'm a Potcake. That's local lingo for Mutt. Mongrel. (Mixed Breed, for the politically correct)
We got scavenging in da blood. It's a way of life--an artform even here in Nassau.
The Humane Society says I'm a "Royal Bahamian Potcake". I like dat. Classy soundin'.
Day really ARE humane.
But I'm a Pitcake now. And dat's no Bull.
I'm Number 4. My job is to pester. I'm VERY good at it. And to sound the alarm.
I drive the HuMan crazy. I don't mean to usually but I'm short a quart.
An' sorta sick. Cuz I lick. An' lick an' lick an' lick.
Maybe it's because I love you so much I can't stop kissin' you?!