i may not have been lucky for Homer Simpson at the racetrack one Christmas Eve, but i sure have turned out to be one fortunate dog. Loved and doted on by my owner, Bart Simpson, i enjoy the sort of life that most dogs can only dream about. i belong to a tolerant family who let me tear up the furniture and eat from the table. i enjoyed a brief but fruitful relationship with a lovely greyhound, together we had 25 puppies, SO WHAT I'M A PIMP, i know it, anyway all of whom escaped being killed by Mr. Burns. and i earned a degree from one of Springfield's most prestigious canine academies. Of course, life hasn't been all milkbones for me. my legs were broken by Mr. Burns. i was abandoned by the Simpson family for Laddie, WHAT A BITCH, a better-bred dog Bart bought from a catalogue. and i was forced to eat several pounds of fried bacon when Homer briefly flirted with a career in grease harnessing. i enjoy long walks with Bart, burying things in the backyard and begging for food. i also have the same birthday as homer simpson
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