He calls me "dumb" but I can talk just fine.  I raise my voice sometimes just to let him know how much I want him to hear me. 

First thing in the morning, I give a shout and he opens the bathroom door.  It's a big bathroom and sometimes I get lost in the myriad of aromas - gardens of floral scents; earthy delights like the morning dew on heather - and then I peruse the letters of long-lost loves each with its own delicate hue - a perfume beyond my wildest dream and I explore them all endlessly.  He yells at me because I'm lost in my surreal and sensual self-absorbtion. I walk into the kitchen and breakfast is ready.

Despite his yelling and name calling, he dotes on me like a mother hen to her chicks.  He feeds me, bathes me, massages me and takes me out to restaurants, or to the beach.  He looks at me with loving eyes, especially when others are around.  It's only when we're alone that he call me names.

I sleep a lot.  The doctor said it was expected at my age.  It started a few years back.  More and more I just don't have the energy to keep my eyes open.  He lets me sleep just fine, but sometimes he'll throw things at me to wake me up.  He can be a real jerk.

Last week, he locked me out on the porch because of my incontinence. Can you imagine the embarrasment of incontinence only to be upstaged by the public humiliation of being forced out of your own home and being put on display for the entire neighborhood to gawk at?  Humiliating! 

I got even with him that night.  I walked up to him and gave him a big kiss on the chops.  He didn't even know that only moments before, I had licked my ****.  Who's the dumb dog now?