Woody smells like incense. I picked him up last night from his sitter, my lovely friend Evan, came home and when I got in bed and Woody hopped up to settle into his favorite position and wait for me to fall asleep so he could jam a paw into my left tit or eyeball, I kissed the soft spot on his muzzle and got a face full of incense. The stoner brand. That blue and white box they sell at every gas station and head shop in the country. And I laughed because this is the worst thing that will ever happen to my dog at Evan’s house.
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