EricaSumner13 Presents: A Character Interview with Mauzzy!

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Interviewer: (Slight chuckle) No, I can't say that I have.

Mauzzy: Well, don't. I would prefer to eat cat food before I eat that nonsense. And before you ask, yes, I have eaten cardboard. I'm not proud of it, but you know, desperate times...

Interviewer: So, if you don't eat dog food, what do you eat, uh, besides cardboard?

Mauzzy: Excuse me, I didn't say I don't eat dog food. I said I abhor it. But if I don't eat it, Sara takes me to the vet, and that's...  (Shudder) So, I hold my nose, which isn't easy with no thumbs, and I force it down. It's better than having a thermometer forced up—well—you know.

Interviewer: Yes, well, you seem to be in good health, so I guess you are making do with what she feeds you.

Mauzzy: Make do? Please, good sir, she hardly feeds my anything. I have to constantly scrounge for whatever food Sara drops on the floor, couch, in between the cushions, on the bed, under the bed, behind the dresser, outside the shower, twice in the shower, on the car seat, and of course, under the car seat. Oh, and when she breaks a meal, I'm in Dachshund Heaven. Especially if it's on Mexican Wednesday.

Interviewer: Breaks a meal? Don't you mean breakfast?

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Interviewer: Breaks a meal? Don't you mean breakfast?

Mauzzy: (Long pause, a sigh, and then a fierce look at Interviewer) Trust me, I know what breakfast is, and I meant break a meal. As in, she drops a 3-bean casserole dish because her hands are glazed in Neosporin. Or she forgets to use her partially-burned oven mitts when taking something out of the microwave and there it goes crashing to the floor.

Interviewer: I see. Does Sara break meals often?

Mauzzy: (Yawn and lick of lips) Indeed, I would consider her to be a bit of clumsy klutz.

Sara: Hey!

Mauzzy: I'm terribly sorry, my dear Sara, but this is my interview. (Turning to the Interviewer) Let's put it this way, she breaks enough meals that I am constantly being put on a diet and exercise routines. Trust me, I sure don't pack on the weight eating the amount of food she gives me. And while I am on the subject, Sara thinks she is being so clever when she reduces my rations, as if I don't notice. All that does is make me scrounge harder—including going into her purse and the kitchen cabinet where she keeps treats in Ziploc baggies.

Sara: Wait! You go into my purse?

Mauzzy: (Sigh) Damn.

Mauzzy: (Sigh) Damn

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