My Licker Problem

By Jim Hagarty

Our doggie can’t hold his licker.

He likes to lick my neck, bald head and ears. To him, I am a 200-pound salt block with glasses.

Two members of our household hate to see this extreme tonguing going on and shut it down. They are known as the licker inspectors. Doggie hides his licker when he sees them coming around.

And there I sit – all lickered up.

If he and I are in the shed alone, it’s OK. We call that the licker cabinet.

Author: Jim Hagarty

I am a 72-year-old retired journalist, busy recovering from a lifelong career as an unretired journalist. This year marks a half century of my scratching out little fables about life. My interests include genealogy, humour and music. I live in a little blue shack in Canada and spend most of my time trying to stay out of trouble. I am not that good at it. I also spent years teaching journalism. Poor state of journalism today: My fault. I have a family I don't deserve, a dog that adores me, and two cars the junk yard refuses to accept. My prized possessions include my old guitar and a razor my Dad gave me when I was 14 and which I still use when I bother to shave. Oh, and my great-great-grandfather's blackthorn stick he brought from Ireland in the 1850s. I have only one opinion but it is a good one: People take too many showers.