Mr. Wilson (bad dog)’s Indy 500

The Smitty was heinously perpetrated by Mr. Wilson (bad dog) when the chonch lady would release her darling “Bebi” for his monthly rampage.

(He would immediately run up to our house and circle it endlessly at top speed, like an Indy 500 of Dog Stupidity.)

The admirable Smitty, during these dark hours, would run up to the porch, butt low as can be, dart inside, and hide under the bed.

Eventually Mr. Wilson (dumb dog) would exhaust himself dizzy with circling and return home, waiting to be let back into his cage (like humans, that).

The Smitty, devastated, would not re-emerge for hours!

His huddled mass, yearning to breathe free, would peer out from below the bed (at any curious Mister who came by to inspectify) and bleat plaintively,

“Meb?”