My name is Penny.
One of the fake dogs sits by our front door. Kasey and I call him Red Eye. When I first saw him, I gave him a good sniff. He has no dog smell. He smells the same as a rock or a tree or a fence. And he’s always staring, with beady red eyes and his mouth open and his pink tongue hanging out and a dopey expression on his face. He’s got on a dumb collar, too. I guess he’s just supposed to look like a really stupid dog. I don’t think he’s fooling anyone, except maybe for the looking stupid part.
Kasey doesn’t like the stupid fake dog. She thinks it’s weird. When we get back from a walk with the old boring guy, Kasey always stays as far away from the fake dog as she can. Then she scratches at the door to get inside fast.
The other fake is just part of a dog. Kasey and I call him Dog Butt. It’s just a butt and a tail, sticking out of the plants in front of the house. The butt never moves, and the tail never wags. And even though everyone knows that the tail section is the best smelling part of any dog, this fake dog has no dog smell, either. How can that be? A dog’s butt with no smell is as disappointing as a food bowl with no food.
I feel sorry for Dog Butt. Now, when I go outside, I always go to the bathroom next to Dog Butt. I figure I might as well contribute a little of the dog smell that other dogs will expect when they see a dog butt in the air.
No need to thank me, Dog Butt! Any dog would do the same.