Sunday, March 08, 2015

Furry

I have a dear group of friends that I see nearly every week- we head to a pub together, or more recently as we're all trying to save money, we head to one another's homes and pretend we're in a pub.

One of our members is a writer. A real one. Published and stuff. 
When he moved to our tiny town he started writing some poems about the quirks of Northumberland. One of those quirks/poems?  Everyone owns a dog.
Our pub group?

All but one of us owns a dog. 

Last week things got a little weird when one of us declared that we should put all the collars into a bowl and pick one out- whichever collar you got was the dog that you'd take home.


wait a second.... 

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