Having been rather low on the totem pole myself when I was younger, I tend to take any pecking order establishment personally. I can tell by the amount of accumulated alpaca spit below his ear that poor little Joey here is getting more than his fair share of pecking. So much so, that he is also a little underweight. Picking on a special needs kid brings out a whole new kind of wrath in me.
I am pulling him aside and giving him extra special meals, which is resulting in glares from the peanut gallery. I had to explain that if they would have just left the poor boy alone, they wouldn’t have this problem.
And, had they not been such jerks, they maybe could have kept certain parts of their anatomy, too. But no. If I have anything to do with it, Frankie will be singing a higher tune by the end of the month.
Little Joey seems to be taking it in stride though. “Don’t worry about me, someday they’ll be old and feeble. What comes around goes around. I can wait.”