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Why am I always the Goat?

by David Yehudah, Bellflower, CA, USA

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Seems I'm always the one getting in trouble around here, and it's not my fault!

Just a few minutes ago Patty was frying some fish nuggets for us for a snack. The fryer isn't very big, and she could only do a few at a time. As she finished a batch, she would dump them onto a plate on the dining table and start another batch. I, of course, sat there like a perfect gentleman waiting for her to finish and sit down with me so we could eat together.

When she dumped the second batch, she gave me a surprised look but didn't say a word. With the third batch came a hard look and a "You must really be hungry." The fourth batch got me a glare and a "Save me a couple of bites, at least. You aren't the only one here, you know."

She turned her back in a snit, growling under her breath. That's when I looked at the plate and saw a little paw come up from under the table and snag the last piece of fish. Whish!!! It was gone.

I ducked my head and looked under the table to see both Sasha and Willoughby on the seat of a chair pulled under the table, both of them scarfing down fish as fast as they could gobble. They had even dropped a couple of pieces on the floor for Mac.

You know, by the time Patty came back, the little hairy varmint critters were gone, and she never did believe me!

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Editor's note:

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