Foul. There is no coming back from that. Say what you want, but if you just get farted on mid bark, argument's over, for better or worse. Gramps over here is approaching the situation like an adult--I bark at you, you bark at me, maybe a few nips get tossed around for shits and gigs, and we both go home pumping our chests telling our friends about the fight we just won. Not this time. Puppy just changed the game, and frankly, I don't like it. Somebody sit this puppy in front of the TV, pop in a VHS copy of Homeward Bound, and let him learn a little something about respecting his elders. Can you imagine if Chance pulled this shit with Shadow? He'd be dead in a ditch somewhere instead of reunited with the Seavers, slobbering all over baseballs, living the dream. Remember that brief moment when Chance decided to be his own dog and peel away from the pack? I'll refresh your memory: porcupine in the face. And who was there to pull out the barbs? Good old Shadow. This is just a perfect example of what's wrong with society today. Everyone's obsessed with swag: John Wall doing the Dougie in the house that MJ built, Cam Newton calling himself an icon before he's even drafted, all just puppies farting in the faces of their forefathers. Tomfoolery. Where would Gordon Bombay be without Hans? Where would Charlie be without Coach Bombay? That's how the world works, one generation learning from the last. Fucking puppies.
