Yesterday I was buying a large bag of Purina dog chow at Wal-Mart
and was about to check out. A woman behind me asked if I had a dog.

On impulse, I told her that no, I didn't have a dog, and that I
was starting the Purina Diet again. Although I probably shouldn't,
because I'd ended up in the hospital last time, but that I'd lost 50 pounds
before I awakened in an intensive care ward with tubes coming out of most
of my orifices and IVs in both arms.

I told her that it was essentially a perfect diet and that the
way that it works is to load your pants pockets with Purina nuggets and
simply eat one or two every time you feel hungry and that the foods
nutritionally complete so I was going to try it again. (I have to mention here
that practically everyone in the line was by now enthralled with my
story.)

Horrified, she asked if I ended up in intensive care because the
dog food poisoned me. I told her no; I stepped off a curb to sniff an
Irish Setter's butt and a car hit us both.