Have you ever gotten yelled at, and you have no idea why it is happening? That’s me every time I get yelled at. I don’t get it.

But I will tell you this, when my dad is yelling at me, I act like I am real sorry. I crouch down and get real low to the ground and run to my mother. I even pull my ears back for effect. You see, I put on this whole production, and I give him a look like, “No, not me, never again.” But we both know it will certainly happen again, whatever “it” was. It’s good for him though, to blow off some steam, so I just go through the motions to appease him.

What I think is most funny, though, is when he tries to hit me and catches nothing but air. I bob-and-weave like Ali, and sometimes he’ll swing two or three times, and nothing, baby. I’ll play along to a point and act sad, blah, blah, blah, but when it comes time to hit me. ... Not happening. One of these days, when he starts yelling at me, I am just going to piss on the floor right in front of him to make him angrier. ... Wait, no, I’ve already done that. Hmmm ....

Oh, well, I’ll think of something. I always do.

I am a dog named Flush.
I am a mutt, and for that reason I am never fed. When I AM fed, it's Ol' Roy.
I like the fish-shaped, diseased-chicken byproducts.
I spend most of my days in a cage, where I can stand and turn around freely
and feel the breeze from my owner's ceiling fan, and nothing else.
When I get excited, I show off my manhood,
although I was sliced and diced as a 3-month-old pup.
I take what I can get.
My name is Flush, and my owners should be incarcerated.

There are times when a dog needs to take time out of his busy schedule to reflect. I swear, this whole day has been full of playing with my loud, squeaky ball (to annoy my owners because they never take me outside), napping and staring out the window.

It is so exhausting watching all the going-ons out the window. I have a lot of neighbors, and they're all different sizes. I thought I had a chance with a couple of the hotties on the first floor, but my owners kind of shut that down. Not only did they take away my manhood, but now they tote me around on a leapord-skin leash and put me in a face mask. I know I wouldn't have to wear the face mask if I didn't pull on the leash so much, but when I go down, all I can think about is jumping into the river. It's like I lose track of everything else, which is weird because I usually have a pretty tight grasp on what's going on.

Yesterday, I got to watch a lot of tennis. I love watching tennis. I can't believe this is Andre Agassi's last tournament. My dream would be to chase a ball that he hit. Put me on a court in a match with Agassi and Federer, and I would be in dog heaven. Hold on, I think my mom is going for the freezer door. I am going to go see if I can sucker my way into a piece of ice.

Then I might write a poem.