Despite not owning a pet, I live in the "pet section" here in Sugar Creek Mobile Home Park. Owners in this section are allowed to have dogs - little dogs, that is. On leashes.
Now I don't mind that these little dogs pee on my mailbox post and poop on my lawn near the sidewalk. But lately, little dogs have been leading their owners into my side yard and up to my front windows where they proceed with their doggie business.
So yesterday, I'm sitting in my lanai - yeah, that one - when an owner follows his dog up to the window next to my La-Z-Boy. The dog poops; the owner scoops and scoots. "God," I pray quietly, "damn them!"
To my considerable surprise, there's a peal of thunder, and a biblical Voice booms, "WHY?" Oh, crap! It's God.
Me (after gathering my wits): Whaddaya mean, 'Why?' That little dog was way up on my lawn.
God: Little dog? Is it cute?
Me: I suppose, but . . .
God: Wait, cute dogs are the Wife's department.
Me: What? I didn't know . . .
Mrs. God: What's the matter, dear?
Me: Um, it's that little dog walking away from my place. He just . . .
Mrs. God: Oh, isn't he cute!
Me: Cute or not, the little darling just pooped under my front window!
Mrs. God: Oh, We didn't know that. I don't do poop; that's My Husband's responsibility. Dear?
God: What now?
Me: That little dog just pooped on my lawn.
God: Well, why didn't you say so in the first place? Are We supposed to know everything?
Me: Actually . . .
God: Don't get smart with Me, boy. It's not always easy to keep up.
Me: Sorry. But can You just send that little dog and his owner somewhere besides my lawn. Maybe somewhere warmer?
God: Dogs don't go there.
Me: But owners do, right?
God (sighing): All too often, boy, all too often. We had to add a special wing down there. Do you know what brimstone costs at Hell Depot?
Me: So that settles it?
Mrs. God: If We do that, who will take care of that cute little puppy?
Me: Oh, I didn't know You were still there.
God (interrupting): Do You want another puppy, Pumpkin?
Mrs. God: Oooh!
God: All right, that does it. But You have to walk him, Sweetie.
Mrs. God: Luckily, We don't live in a trailer park.
At that point, the little dog and his owner disappeared around the corner. I haven't see them since.