Nasty, mangy, mean, pushy, bossy, filthy little feist.
Nasty little piece of work. Tough little customer. A mean, pushy, mangy, worm-rolling little feist. A flea-bitten, wall-hugging, rug-running little snit of a dog.
A smelly little rat of a dog. A pushy little Napoleon of a dog.
And don't think I'm badmouthing
her either. This is the sort of talk that Sal the Feist loves.
This is the kind of dog that revels in a mean, pushy, dirty reputation. That's just how this rotten, mean, fleabitten little dog is. This is the kind of dog that, if you hug her just wrong she'll growl at you and if you do it again god damn bet she's going to sink her teeth into your nose. Fucking with Sal The Feist is definitely not on the To Do list, man. And god, the breath. The breath.
Like a hot, pungent putrescence. Like a fetid distillation of pure rottenness.
Don't get sentimental around Sal The Feist. Not around this tough little customer. This is the kind of flea-bitten little rodent you want to steer well clear of.
Lori adds adds a small exposition of this little rat:
With Sal the Feist, it's all about "Dogs" (i.e., Sal the Feist). In her little mind, it's all about her.
Dogs Sun Spot
Dogs Bed (it's king)
Dogs ________ (fill in the blank)
Dogs! Dogs! Dogs! And should you ever forget, she threatens that she'll make a phone call to "DogsDogsDogs" her attorney. We're afraid to push our luck but in the back of our minds, we're confident that she'll retract her complaints.
You say she's ?pushy?. Pushy? That's the understatement of the year. She's an absolute mess! She gets upset when you walk out the door. She gets upset when you close a door on her but even more when you hold it open for her to follow you through. She growls, barks, and jumps in an attempt to nip you in the rear. Usually connecting!
She chases the cat up the stairs and isn't satisfied until he's back in the bedroom he came from.
With a little lift of her lip, she causes a 90lbs Golden Retriever to drop and cover.
From under the bed covers you'll hear a growl when you move her aside because she?s taking up 2/3 of the bed.
It's gotten to the point that we cannot say ?chipmunk? because she became obsessed with one living in our rock wall. We?d have to pick her up and carry her into the wooded area so she would do her business.
Heaven forbid, two people should sit side by side (let alone smooch)! She worms her way in. She'll fight and grunt and growl until she's in between what ever is going on. If, while snuggling, you want privacy, you'll first have to go through the battle of closing the door in her face.
I realize that she sounds "tough" but let me tell you this. She's a spoiled rotten little snit.
She will only eat while standing on carpet. She'll take a mouth full from her bowl and carry it to a rug, drop it and then eat.
She gets embarrassed (ears flat back on her head) when Wilson (Golden Retriever) sees her getting a bath in the kitchen sink.
She slinks around when you catch her sleeping when she should have been protecting the house.
She also thinks it's her job to help discipline the boys. She always manages to get her two cents in if one of them is being sent to his room. She'll stand at the bottom of the stairs and bark at them.