Bubba: Okay, squirrel boy, pay attention.
Max: (lunging against sliding glass door) Of course. I'm listening to
every . . .every . . .
Bubba: Word I say?
Max: Word you say. Right!
Bubba: The topic today is Pit Bulls.
Max: That's our topic?
Max: No problem. I've got an opinion. Me, me, call on me.
Bubba: (sighs) Max, go ahead what's your opinion?
Max: I'm all for them. Absolutely. 100% in favor without question.
Bubba: Really. You feel that way? You like Pit Bulls? Big scary dogs with teeth that lock down on you like a land shark on steroid?
Max: Pit Bulls. Oh. (he blushes) Geez, I thought you said pet bowls. Where our food lives. (long pause) Never mind.
Bubba: Here in Vancouver, dogs and their people have been attacked by Pit Bulls whose owners didn't have them on a leash or weren't strong enough to hold on to them.
Max: We've got some in our neighborhood, huh?
Bubba: Before you came along, when we still had Dudley, the wonder dog, one came after us. Mom screamed and scooped me up and he rushed to defend us.
Max: Wow, I bet that was exciting. (thinks about it) and scary.
Bubba: The Pit Bull got Dudley by the neck and wouldn't let go. Dad tried to pull it off, and got bit.
Max: Wow! What happened.
Bubba: Finally, Dudley got loose, and the women grabbed the Pit Bull and Dad called them some very dirty names.
Max: Like the ones he calls me when I get him out of bed at 2am to let me out so I can chase squirrels?
Bubba: Like that, only worse. Anyway, they're talking about whether or not to outlaw Pit Bulls in the city limits.
Max: Uh, well, maybe, I could see that. Couldn't I?
Bubba: The problem is that when nice people raise Pit Bulls and keep them under control they're okay.
Max: I see a big, hairy, Schnorkie but coming here.
Bubba: But, some really scary, nasty, mean, stupid and inconsiderate people like to raise Pit Bulls and use them to show people how tough they are.
Max: Ooh, big dilemma. Like when I'm trying to decide whether to play little football down the stairs or sleep in Dad's lap.
Bubba: But if they ban them all, what's to keep somebody who doesn't like, say Maltese, from banning them? Or if somebody gets bit by a renegade Pomeranian, and the next thing you know, dinky dogs like us are forced to become outlaws. Or move to La Center.
Max: So what do we do?
Bubba: That's a tough one. I guess maybe we just bark like crazy at any dog bigger than us . . .
Max: Pretty much all of them, right?
Bubba: Right. And hope for the best. Say, isn't it almost dinner time?
Max: I think I heard the can opener. Race you to the Pit Bull.
Bubba: You mean pet bowl.
Max: What you said.