Hi folks, Pancho here. If you open the wide view on this picture, you can see what I face everyday as temporary ranch dog. I start up a friendly play date with the baby beast and here comes a predator drone they call momma cow to bust up the fun. She wheels into a turn and that giant flyswatter of a tail slaps baby in the face. Baby cries. Momma blames Pancho.
I am no stranger to injustice, even when I was a city dog. Let’s talk gas. I’m talkin’ flatulence. Women don’t have it but if there is a dog around, dogs have more than our share. I mean get a room full of society women together and its all “My your cute little doggy is gassy today I hope he will be alright And could you please pass some more of that delicious bean dip?”
Injustice to ole Pancho is spread pretty evenly across species and genders. Even the foreman stoops to it, telling that feller they call preacher that the beer cans were mine. Don’t get me wrong, that stuff is good! If I had opposable thumbs I’d crack one open here at breakfast and call in a sick day to ranch dog headquarters.
Your Pal, Pancho.
#PanchoRanchPug