Swimming

I heard that my friend Henry maybe broke into a pool and swam in it and Fran was mad. I like Henry. In fact, sometimes after we've been playing really hard I try to make love to him by moving my little hips back and forth like boy dogs. But I don't understand why come he likes to swim. If I was Henry I'd stay out of that water and probably play fetch. I'd play fetch for days and days! And when the ball was just a soggy knot of threads, I'd roll it toward the horizon and wait for the sun to suck it up into its big fiery maw and then sink into the faraway sea.