Dogs are better’n Husbands

This is an original piece I wrote for a fiction writing class.

I know a dog can’t give none of the husband and wife lovin. I ain’t some freak. But a dog can an will snuggle with you while you cry or watch TV an always pays attention when you talking. Unless he real excited by something outside acourse.

I always had dogs, but I ain’t always had a husband. An that’s the best way to be, girl! Lemme tell you. My mamma was always banged up and I’d hear her shoutin from the room near every night. But our two good pups, the one when I was a youngin and the one when I was gettin to be old enough to get married, would sit with me while she cry and sit by her feet the nex mornin.

My daddy married me off to a man jus like him. My pup never did such things. He never smacked me cross the face neither or put out a cigarette on my hands. My pup jus wag his tail when he happy an tuck it between his legs when I’m mad.

My dog ain’t never run off with no big town huzzy neither. Now the dog, he run off once in a while, after some bitch in heat or some rabbit in the woods but he always come back. An when he come back he come back with his tail a-waggin an his tongue a-lollin out of his mouth like a damn fool. My husband, he would come back in like he nevah even left, crowin for his supper an then boxin my ears fer not havin it! Nah, my dog, he a good dog, always listen like an angel now that he not a puppy no more. He had to take some beatins to get that good, but you gotta train a dog somehows.

Naw, this pup ain’t the first since I got married. Shoo, I’m an old woman, girl! I had one that he shot when he was in a righ fit an then there was one more. That one…well, the years got lean and there was nothing ta eat. You wasn’t even a twinkle in yer daddy’s eye back then. Hell he were probably a kid hisself. Mmm… I hope that poor bitch don’t think bad of me, but she was always fed good on rabbits and squirrels an we were so dern hungry. My husband shot her, skinned her. I cried an cried, but he made me cook her in the stew anyhow. May you nevah, evah be so hungry, chil’, but one whiff of fresh meat an I ate that stew with my poor old bitch in it like nobody’s business.

But everythin runs out ‘ventually, and so did bitch stew, and it were just him and me. An we got so dern hungry agen.

Shoo, dogs taste better’n husbands too.

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