The Dog Pillow

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This short story is from the perspective of a spiteful personified pillow. Enjoy. 


Why did you pack me away? I don't understand. You could be using me everyday, I can be helpful. Instead of just throwing me to the dogs. Literally! You used to sleep with three freaking pillows. I was the one you hugged in your sleep, drool aside, I felt loved, warm. Now I am not. Because you threw me out. You dropped me on the floor and left me for your slobbery dog just because my pillowcase was different, because I didn't match. This is racist. I refuse to be treated like this. Yah, cute dog, whatever. You don't know what it's like to have a dog use you as a pillow. At least when you drooled on me it was small, meaningless, and the pros outweigh the cons. I was warm, had a blanket and softness. Now I am warm in one spot, the corner where your dog lays his head and it is mainly warm because of his excessive drooling. Half the time getting scratched up with his freakishly long nails.I know I am just ranting at this point. But I don't care. Just because I am a faded grey compared to your purple sheets, I don't deserve to suddenly be pure black from piles of dog hair. This has to be harassment of some sort. I would SO throw hands if I could. I would be up and out of here. I don't think your brother and sister would treat me like this. See, they have every single stuffed animal, pillow, and blanket on their bed. They love them, sleep and play with them. I should leave your ungrateful ass for the proper caretakers, you buffoon. 



Thank you.

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