Sammie’s husband Hun is home. I don’t think that’s his real name, but that’s what she calls him, so I’m going with Hun. Whenever he puts his hat on, I sashay to the door and sit like a pretty girl. I know once I bat my big brown eyes at him, I’ll get to go for a ride in the truck. Men are such pushovers. Sammie hardly ever rides in the truck, so I get to ride shotgun. Sometimes, he’ll stop at McDonald’s and get us some French fries. It’s one of our many secrets from Sammie.
On the rare occasion when all three of us are going somewhere in the truck, as soon as Hun opens the door, I jump in and take my usual spot in the front seat. Hun opens the back door for Sammie. She gives him a dirty look, gives me an eye roll and climbs in the back.
I think if there is a seat with your ass-print imbedded in it, it yours for life! Sorry, Sammie!
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