Don’t care for the leash – I make no bones about it, whatever that means. I love a good bone, or even a dried, cracked-up old one covered in dirt. The bones from Max’s Memphis Ribs! We’ll get to them another time, but right now it’s about … yes! I remember! The leash. Don’t care for the leash. The collar, no problem. I have a brown one for everyday and a black one for dress-up. Sometimes, like in court, you have to wear the leash and that’s that. Once I was Exhibit A. Exhibit B was a .44 Magnum I’d dug up in a flower bed. You should have seen the look on the perp’s lawyer’s face! “Surprise,” Bernie said in a real low voice that only I could hear. I always enjoy a day in court.
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