Bad dog

 Surprisingly enough, I found a benefit to not being able to speak clearly.

Normally, it’s bad, like when I had too find my brother-in-law to explain to 911 that my call was an error. I tried telling them, but he operator could not understand me.

But during my cold, I found one.

Mom had to call the vet to ask if Fame, my highly trained service dog, would be all right after eating my day’s worth of dirty tissues.

She has eaten tissues in the past but just one or two when she has been alone. Not 10-20 when I am washing my hands.

She was fine, just a bad dog.