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Jul 7, 2010
“Did you get ‘em Clarence?” Betty called as she slapped together the makings for a fresh pot of coffee.

“Nope.” He hunched his shoulders and slid onto his customary stool. “They wrecked it.”

“Who wrecked what?” Charlie asked.

“Clarence put out a new trap yesterday.” Betty said.

“Another one?” Charlie’s eyebrows rose along with his rusty voice.

“Yup.” Clarence grumbled.

“I told you,” Charlie took the stool next to Clarence, “you need a good dog.”

“I don’t want a dog.”

“You should listen to Charlie.” Betty nodded and poured their coffee. “Beside, a dog would be good company for you.”

Earl sat down on the other side of Clarence. “You’ve tried everything else.”

“I’m not out of ideas yet.”

“It doesn’t matter how many ideas you have,” Charlie poked Clarence in the ribs, “because none of ‘em work anyhow!”

“The BB gun would have worked,” Clarence said, “if nosy old Erma B. hadn’t called the cops.”

“My favorite was greasing the pole with lard.” Earl wheezed out a laugh. “Every cat in the neighborhood loved that one!”

“Remember the time he chucked the stink bomb out the window at ‘em?” Charlie laughed. “Erma B. had just hung out her sheets. She couldn’t get to the phone fast enough!”

Clarence slouched another inch lower. He hated to admit it but he was starting to think the boys were right. Maybe he did need a dog.

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