whore doll

I have lots and lots of toys. Most are soft and cuddly but some are big and make noise, like the big red square. My favorite toy is the doll. She’s little and has long blond hair and a bright red dress and tiny feet; she’s a miniature Barbie. The Baby got her in a thing called a happy meal. Anyway, it stays here, like many other of the kids’ toys. But, the woman calls it the whore doll. Sometimes she’ll pick it up and say, sweetie, here’s the whore doll, and she scoots it across the floor and I chase it and pounce on it and wrap my body around it. I love the whore doll. I also love Peanut, the boy’s three legged soft puppy. I eat his feet and his nose and his ears. He sits on the bed with the bell bear that I’m not supposed to play with. But, when the woman is gone, I hit that bell bear in the face with my paws and kick it with my back paws and I eat its ears. I also like the baby’s crib, her big pusher toy, and her soft blanket. Did I tell you all my fur grew back from where they cut me? Yeah, and it isn’t even sore. Gotta go, there’s still wrapping paper left on the Boy’s bed and I need to go jump in it.