The Bone

         He always seems to have a bone to pick, Tom thought, as he leaned back against the tree trunk. Sometimes I wish he would just shut up.
         "It's like I was telling you when I saw you eating that hot dog," Joe's voice came from the other side of the tree. "A diet like that will kill you. Do you know how much cholesterol is in one of those things? Not to mention what goes into them. You don't want to know what animal parts get ground up into that meat. You should leave that sort of eating to a professional."
         "Like you, Joe?" Tom asked.
         "Yeah, like me," Joe replied. "I can handle that sort of thing. I've even been known to chew up the occasional piece of plastic and pass it through my system. No problem."
         Tom knew better than to open that can of worms. He put his head back against the tree trunk and looked up through the gently fluttering leaves at the blue sky beyond, enjoying the momentary silence. Silence was always momentary when Joe was around.
         "Or like the time I caught you whizzing on that poor tree," Joe went on, "Honestly, what were you thinking?"
         "You know something, Joe?" Tom said, "Just because you can talk, that doesn't automatically mean that you should talk. Not every stupid thought that pops into your head needs to come out of your mouth."
         "Look," Joe replied, "I'm just saying that not everyone should be trying to do whatever they want, all willy-nilly like. It's sort of a natural law thing, you know what I mean? Some of us are made to do certain things, and others aren't very good at those things and should just leave them alone. It's a matter of quality, right? If we all stick to what we're good at, those things will get done well. On the other hand, if everyone goes around butting in on someone else's area of expertise, there will be a lot more stuff getting done, but none of it will be quality. You know what I'm saying?"
         "You're saying that we should all stand pat," Tom said, "We shouldn't challenge ourselves or try new things."
         "You're a lot smarter than you look, Tom," Joe said. "That is exactly what I'm saying. Do what you do. That's my motto. If everyone followed my advice, the world would be a wonderful place."
         Tom decided he had had enough. He grabbed the pink leash that was laying on the ground next to him and stood up. Tom had specifically chosen pink, because he knew how much it would irritate Joe. "Come on, Joe," he said, slapping his thigh, "Get your bone. It's time to go home."
         The walk home took them past the cherry trees down by the water. Birds were hopping about in the branches and talking to each other. Tom whistled at the birds, trying to imitate their calls. "That sounded terrible," Joe commented, "You don't listen to a word I say, do you?"

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