The Tale of the Poofter and the Sundae

This happenend last spring.

Promise of a great afternoon hang in the air. Wonderful weather, Bitchboss took me downstairs to the patio of our inhouse ice-cream parlour where I usually get my well-deserved ice-cream wafer from our friend and  guv' Monika. (It's not that I hate ALL women. I exclude those who feed me with icecream wafers!)

Suddenly, this female with a sortof Yorkie appeared. The little cur dared to approach me. He wore, believe it or not, a bow in his forelock.

What a poofter!

I went for his throat straight away. Bitchboss grabbed my tail and thus prevented the worst - well, the best from MY point of view.

I shouted expletives, most of them of a homophobic nature, but Bitchboss, always the party-pooper, took me on her lap to control me. (I TOLD you she is a controlfreakish superbitch!)

Then I glared at the gutless little mutt balefully, sadly to no avail.

When he was finally gone, Bitchboss unapologetically scoffed her sundae.

I never got my ice-cream wafer.

Not just this woman is a bitch, the afternoon was as well.

I am miffed!

That bitch let me LOOK at it and didn't even share a tiny morsel with me, ME who LOVES strawberries!