Martin & Harriet - On Fleas and Leaving
Harriet, you never
could take care of animals. I
was the pet person in our house.
Yes, of course, Dear.
A real Dr. Doolittle. This
dog is infested. Thatís
what I get for letting that dreadful woman next door take care of him
for the weekend. Heís
filthyÖpoor widdle Winston.
I always hated that
dog, despite his adoring me.
Ha! He didnít adore
you, Martin. He just wanted to stay close enough to bite your face off.
Yes, all eleven pounds
of him. Could you PLEASE stop his infernal yapping!
How DO you stand it?
Heís my baby.
God knows we never had a chance at kids, but he makes up for it.
These bloody fleas though. Theyíre
driving me mad. Driving him
He was already crazy
when you took him in. Harriet honestly! You pluck them off and hurl them
to the floor as though you think the fall will kill them.
Iíll take him to the
vet. That should fix his
The only problem that
dog has, wife, is you.
Jolly good thing Iím
not your problem any longer, eh Martin?
Iíd give a big hip
hooray on that one, Darling.
By the way Martin, any
word yet on your departure? Itís
been ages since the funeral. Iíd
like my life back, if itís not too much trouble.
Harriet, I have no idea
if itís too much trouble or not.
I do not have a pipeline to the Almighty.
I have no clue what Iím doing when Iím not here.
Iím not sure I exist at all when Iím not here.
Well if you must stay so long Martin, donít interfere with my life. I have a life. You do not. Not any longer. Even though youíve always been mildly entertaining, this routine is getting a little old.
Iíll be sure to pass the message on, Dear.
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Martin & Harriet
He's dead, she's not.