So, we are just sitting there in in a copse of trees and bushes, watching, listening, sniffing, when I look over and Warin is in human form reading Pride and Prejudice. "What the hell are you doing?" I said.
Jane Austen is very popular amongst weredogs. Even I have read a few of her books, seen some movies. I guess we are drawn to the firmness of character of her heroines, the order and propriety of her culture, how Darcy and Wentworth can do what has to be done, but also be gentlemen.
"I wish I could find my own Elizabeth Bennet," Warin said.
"Great," said I, "my partner is a Janeite with romantic delusions of happiness."
Did I not believe in love and happiness? he said.
I told him my idea of happiness is a large, juicy steak, a warm gun, and a female in heat.
We would have launched into a impassioned discussion of the redemptive powers of love had not someone come out of the house and walked right toward us. Thank Dog.
We pulled back and flanked right. Trying hard to control my breathing, we watched while the person walked around where we just had been. He looked up and around. Finally, he walked back into the house. We went back to the spot and sniffed. He left an odd scent. I could not place it.
Sherry is up. I can hear her moving around upstairs. Time to pack this in. For today.
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