The Dog Stays In The Picture

Brother John at your service

Friday, my brother John stopped by, dressed exactly like this, in a formal tuxedo that once belonged to our grandpa.  "You're a little overdressed for a quick lunch in my kitchen before I kick you out," I said, in my sweet sisterly way.  "I just had an audition," he said, explaining his dapper attire.  Then he shoved his camera in my hand and commanded me to take some photos for his portfolio.  Actors!   "Say cheese," I said.  "Not yet.  I'm not ready."  He quickly got into character, channeling Fred Astaire.  Dusty wandered into the photo, which I thought added a touch of class.  Click.  "Now take one without the dog."  "You'll hurt his feelings."  "Too bad."  Hmph!  Dusty didn't like being booted from the photo, and later got back at John by stealing half his sandwich.  So there.  Remember this, my friends.  In the home of the SJG, it's wise not to piss off the canine.  You could lose your sandwich, your top hat and your tails.   Once you go there, you can't tap dance your way back into his heart.  You're persona non grata.  "Here's your hat, what's your hurry?" I said, booting my brother out the door.  "I'm sorry if I offended you, Dusty," John said, right before the door slammed shut.  Next time, the dog stays in the picture.