I went off to Conjectureyesterday and came back to discover something HORRIFIC. I had crated the Corgis, Panda and Tater, because our house is torn up from flood damage. Image my terror when I discovered that the CRATES were torn up and my Corgis were NOWHERE TO BE FOUND! And I heard a ton of growling. I figured they had cornered something and started calling their names.
Imagine my double terror when instead of two little Corgis running at me, a pack of ZOMBIES lumbered at me with slathering, rabid-looking jaws a-clackin’! I started screaming. Then I realized that if the Corgis had bitten them, they had become Zombicorgis. A FATE WORSE THAN DEATH!
So I stopped screaming and found the dogs’ retractable leashes. Using them like bolos, I swung them around my head and lassoed the zombies around their necks. Then I started leading them toward the front door, and I saw my two intrepid herding dogs coming up behind them.
“NO BITING!” I yelled. “NO BITING!”
My dogs have both been to obedience school. Panda, in fact, is a Canine Good Citizen and Tater was a Star Puppy. So despite their agitation–I, their beloved, might be in trouble!–they did as I said. That’ll do, Corgis. That’ll do!
As you may know, zombies don’t move very fast. I lead them out the front door and over to the slope that leads down to the street. I feinted going down the slope. They followed…and wobbled. And fell off balance!
As they tumbled down the incline, I raced back into the house. The Corgis had obediently waited for me. I slammed the door shut and examined them.
It’s been twelve hours since then, and they are unchanged. We’re all back together and I have suitably rewarded my two Corgibabies with chicken flips and lots of cuddles. And that’s the report from San Diego!
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