Morgan and Stanley
by
Steven Hunley
Morgan and Stanley sat on the floor panting like crazy and looked up.
"You understand, both of you, that I'll do your portraits, it's only a matter of time."
They got up and Morgan followed Stanley from the living room to the dining room, and I thought, were making for the hallway to walk out on me, preparing to abandon my talented yet worthless *ss.
"Oh, so that's how it is. You've lost your confidence in me as a photographer. Why, that's crazy, as crazy as me talking to two dogs. I could have made you look glamorous, could have made you look mythic, even heroic, like Swartzennegger in an under-arm deodorant commercial. Among the women doggies of the world, both of you would become iconic."
They made a U-turn at the hallway door and sat down on the rug by the dining room table with my computer. Their body-language alone showed they were repentant, and frightfully sorry that yesterday they chewed on the cable until it shorted out and nearly fried their canines.
I'd won them over. With dogs this big you have to win them over.
"Oh, so that's how it is in reality. You love me. I love you too, my very hairy friends. And why not? Everybody loves us both. The women? They can't leave us alone. In one way or another we are of the same noble breed. Have you not heard of Norman Swine and Saxon Dogs? "
They shook their heads no.
"I'm a pedigreed Anglo-Saxon, myself."
©StevenHunley2013
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