Thoracic Animus (13)

   
   "Thoracic Animus (13)"

   Harry approached the campfire, it still flickering with a vibrant orange flame, and glared at Mutt, his Uncle, and Tanya snoozing; plus, noticed the depressed dog Buckwheat, him having restless leg syndrome, shaking his hind paws in doggy slumber, as if possibly chasing an annoying rabbit that brought him no colorful eggs on Easter.
   Harry wanted to hang out with the humans, especially ask for a can of Beenie Weenies, always finding them out in the woods, noticing they were packed full of protein and fiber; moreover, containing the anti-inflammatory properties of turmeric, but with all the fiber, he pondered that a scientist may steal his scat and attempt to unearth what God has concealed--that humans are a mixed breed of many species, and like Lord of the Rings, we are living in a weird and wild world, which would be all too much for the quintessential business person to take, for careerism trumps a sacred tribe of celestial mutts.
   Oh well, Harry pondered if he should wake them with a howl, but that might cause cardiac disturbance, a sort of thoracic animus, which is why the future hides from the face of a self-seeking man.