“Outside of a dog, a book is a man's best friend. Inside of a dog it's too dark to read.” —Groucho Marx
He came to see his mother and “his” dog. It matters little that I live here too. I get acknowledged, I get some attention but the clear favorite has his eye. I don’t get upset. After all, I live here now and he lives somewhere Outside. I have been there before. I am not an “outside” dog anymore.
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