Roger the lousy nurse
This is Roger, who will be 13 years old next month. It’s comforting to think that if I’m ever incapacitated, Roger will bring me a stuffed chicken to sustain me while I wait for the paramedics to arrive. Depending on how long that takes, however, there’s an excellent chance that he will also bark at me in anger for not getting up to get his customary afternoon biscuit while I bleed out.
I was moving some things around in the basement storage room this afternoon and tripped over something before landing on my knee. Roger came to investigate what the loud cursing was for. He looked at me for maybe five seconds, then turned around and ran out of the storage room, only to return with the stuffed chicken. I'm doomed if I ever need his help.
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