DOWN, PRANCER!

The bizarre movements were so flagrant they caught my eye and forced me
  to put down the sports pages.

Me:     So,what's all the prancing around about? It's just another birthday.
           Don't expect any special creature treats!

Bella - Apparently you forgot this is my 9th birthday.

Me:    Not really. You've been leaving hints all over the house - singing "99
          bottles of beer"- complaining about cats having 9 lives - reminding
          me the Pirates opposition won again in the 9th - suggesting to me
          that 9 out of 10 times I am wrong - and arranging  your toys on the
          floor in a formation of a huge NINE. So, what's the big deal?

Bella: I told you! I'm nine years old today. That's special all by itself.

Me:    OK Pal. Tell you what I'm going to do. How bout I take off your
          brightly colored collar and you can do your prancing in
          your "birthday suit"

Bella:  You'd like that wouldn't you? You old pathetic lecher!

Me:    Trust me there is nothing about a 2.7 lb Chihuahua that turns
          me on.

Bella:  I'm assuming this means you've stopped chasing dogs then!

Me:    I may risk one eye!. Look, what's this all about - the attitude
          and stuff?

Bella:  Ahh, Why do I even try?  Do you not know what the age 9 is
           in doggie years?

Me:   Wait! I'll go find a calculator.

Bella: What? Your abacus is broke again?.

Me:    You know, I've just about had enough of your attempts to do
          your stupid   Cantinflas impression. You Hispanics just aren't
          that funny.

Bella:  So, Trump tells me,, but George Lopez isn't doing so bad as a
           Chicano in your country.

Me:    I suspect he's really Gringo and mastered the dialect through several
          lessons via Rosetta  Stone, but we're getting off the subject again.
          Why is the number 9 so important to you?

Bella:  It means I'm 63 in human years. That means I'm over the 55 year
          old requirement in this old fart co-op of yours. So, now I'm a
          shareholder and can kick you out of my home. Time  to pack,
          Chubby.

Me:    Your home ???

(Sounds of dog both running and laughing while elderly man chases
 and his wheezing almost drowns out both noises. Dog stops - takes off her
 collar herself -and is now flaunting it in his face while he leans against
 curio cabinet to catch his breath . This is  followed by the sound of broken
 glass and  a screaming woman!).