Banjo

During my brief blogging hiatus, the Williams household took on an extra piehole to feed. It is a sweet enough piehole whilst its owners are about, but leave it alone with a mild mannered butler and it grows sharp fangs and overactive saliva glands.

Sadly, the duplicitous ingrate of a K9 has turned forever against me. Just a couple rounds of “dodge the vacuum” and I hae been forever labeled in the dark mind of the four-legged thingamajig as untrustworthy, un-forgiven. Thou might be tempted to believe that the ill-will radiating from the dog’s blackened soul is due to the fact that it is a sore loser, but thou would be pete tong. I did win the first few rounds, but in the later games it came back to nearly tie the score. It has an unnerving and inexplicable ability to gander in more than one direction at a time and is keenly aware of which way the vacuum might be coming at it – even in the dark.

Anyroad, they named the beast Banjo, which is fitting since its howlings and growlings are as grating on the nerves as its namesake. Incidentally, how can ye tell if there's a banjo player at yer door? They can't find the key, the knocking speeds up, and they don't know when to come in.