Mister Smitty Goes to the Spa!
Actually,
he lives in one – unbeknownst to The Misters.
Every
morning he lies on the sunniest part of our little grass mat, stretches, and
waits for one of his attendants (aka The Misters) to brush or comb him. After a
brief, refreshing aloe treatment to his wee sunburned, pre-cancerous ears, The
Smee shakes a leg, dismisses his attendants (“ What were their names?”) and
steals away to the shower for a cool drink of water.
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