…when the outsider came and spoiled things.
The family has been quite upset the past few weeks. Our pretty girl had been caught running around after dark with the neighborhood black scoundrel. And yes, he got her pregnant. Worse, as the realization sank in as to what her offspring would look like, sober expressions clouded each family members’ countenance. Mealtimes have been so unpleasant, with discussions and arguments about who would be responsible to take care of her and “the consequences,” leaving tempers hot and nothing resolved.
“I hate that black trash!” my teen-age son shouted at me. “Why didn’t you let me shoot him that last night he came around here? I know that’s when it happened! Even the neighbors would have been grateful!” Part of me agreed with him, but I had reasoned with him at the time that “You just can’t go through life shooting all your problems!”
We’d wanted to keep our Great Pyrenees’ pedigree pure, and this would definitely ruin things for a while… oh, didn’t I mention that our pretty girl is our lovely white dog and family pet?
Oh, so THAT’S why you were deriding me as a racist, how funny! It isn’t acceptable that we preserve human blood lines, you know. That’s only appropriate for dogs, horses, and cows, but certainly not for our grandchildren.