Sweater Project

Herein follows a tale which has been handed down through my family from father to son for generations. Well, generation. My dad started it. And now I shall share it with you.

And when the pilgrims made it through the winter, they gave thanks to god and ate their dogs, starting with the Weimeraners and the Schnausers, and ending with the Beagles. Which is why today, two things are true: there are no dogs on Long Island, and the Beagle is known as “Man’s Best Friend” … or dessert. Whichever.

My father also used to tell this story to my Beagle, Xiphi. This is why both I and my dog grew up slightly deranged.

This entry was posted on Friday, November 26th, 2004 at 10:26 am and is filed under Personal. You can follow any responses to this entry through the RSS 2.0 feed. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.