It's kind of ironic, being born on the fourth of July and being of much more value to me than that other place. Oh well, we can pretend our neighbours down south know who you are, too. Five whole years, four years and 5 months of that being spent with me. How much is that in dog years? 35, old man! You don't look a day over fourteen. Save for that bit of gray on your face now, but we can say you were born with it, so as not to intimidate the girl next door. Your coat is as shiny as ever, your skulk still resembling a coyote's, and I am amazed that even after being with such dreadful people before us, you still greet each waking moment with a grin. You know what, Andy? Fuck those mean, misunderstanding people we meet outside that you get scared of. Fuck their sheltered lives and their lack of compassion. They just want to scare us with their threats of lawsuit. They aren't worth the shit that I pick up after you.
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