Pocket's a Rat by River Song

Every house has their own routines and we quickly become accumulated to it..  On Saturday mornings we get up early and Daddy goes to work.  As soon as he is gone we climb into Mommy’s recliner, she puts the legs up, and pushes back and we take a long nap.  If she doesn’t get in her recliner quickly enough we walk behind her whining.

Some of our routines aren’t as much fun.  Just before we go to bed we get our teeth brushed.  I hate having my teeth brushed.  The toothbrush is bigger than my mouth.  Plus I have perfectly white teeth not like my sister who has let her teeth become full of tartar.  I understand her getting brushed but why should I?

Pocket goes first and I go hide.  We love in a single sized modular home.  It’s a freaking one level tube. Not a lot of places to hide, but there are knooks and cranies and I am small.  I squeeze myself in and hope for the best.

The Pocket comes tearing out of the bathroom looking for me.  When she finds me she narcs me out, barking her little head off.  Daddy follows her and I twist and turn trying to disappear up my own butt.  But small dogs have small butts and I am soon scooped up and face a good 15 seconds of tooth brushing hell.

I am stunned by this.  As a lawyer Pocket should know that you never rat anyone out.  And Daddy won’t let me touch her, he insists that Pocket is a confidential informant but there is not much confidential when the confidential dog is running around barking her head off.  And I am a victim of tooth abuse.

Someday I must repay my sister by turning rat on her.  Here’s hoping for impacted anal glands.