Bill’s gonna Bubba; it’s our fault for letting him inside

So how on earth can you blame him if you allow him into the plush confines or a leather-upholstered private plane? I mean, whose fault is that? Certainly not the dog’s fault.

Heck, you could let Big Dog on a giant private jet with gold-plated bathroom fixtures and, well, he is still just a Mississippi leg hound from Arkansas who ain’t housebroken.

And so he lets loose, right there inside the private plane all over everybody and thoroughly stinks up the place. You can’t scold the poor dog. It wasn’t his fault.

You see, Mississippi leg hounds aren’t just about hounding after every leg they see. They have other needs, too.

There’s nothing they like more after a good run of leg-hounding than to come across a rotting carcass of a dead animal in which to roll. For them, it is like smoking a cigarette in bed.

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