<div>This is Clara the younger. I would like to thank Elder Clara for her advice on handling brothers. I have decided I am much too much of a lady to allow my temper to get the better of me again - especially now the slave has an enormous, ugly cage, that she calls a crate. </div> <div>Crate! Yeah, right. Who does she think she's kidding? I know a cage when I see one and so does Rolph and he says once you go in a cage you spend months and months waiting in it until you see someone gullible enough to take you home.</div> <div>And I am home already and I don't want yet another one. All right?</div> <div>Sorry, I digress.</div> <div> </div> <div>Anyway, we have been reading all about poop bombs and Elder Clara's tailpipe and the houndie who parped in the back of the car and we wondered - is that why we're called scent hounds?</div> <div> </div> <div>Clara and Rolph, sending drool to all our friends who need it and sympathies to all those
two leggers whose fur friends have gone to the bridge.</div><p>
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