Willa came into the kitchen pulling a plastic toy behind her on string. Every once and while, she would give it a yank, flinging it out to the side and hitting something in its path.
"Please be careful with that, Willa, " I warned. "I don't want you to flick my feet or break something."
"It's my dog," she explained. "He keeps jumpin' up. He jumps up for food, for hugs, for playin' ... for everything."
"Hmmm, it sounds like he needs some discipline."
"Ya," she agreed. "And I don't have any!"
Happy sweeping!
Kathleen Gunther
Editor, ContestHound.com
