"Dad?" I asked my father over the phone tonight. "Bring Maggie's flea medications tonight and we will just keep them over here."
"I am leaving the house now," my father told me.
Maggie took her medications and balked quite fussily I might add. I had to shove them down her throat as she wouldn't chew it up.
"She looks shellshocked," my father said with a hearty chuckle.
"I did that Martha style," I told my father.
Maggie still looked shell shocked at the speed I shoved her medications down her throat.
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