Just like John Steinbeck

So, there I was, doing my impressions of John Steinbeck, minding my own business, typing away industriously like a proper little scribe. Everything was cosy, just the bedside light on apart from my screen. I had music playing softly in the background and my dog was asleep on my feet under the desk.
Let me tell you about my dog, Tara. She is a German Shepherd and is only about two sizes down from a grizzly bear with teeth to match. She's no bother apart from being very strong with a penchant to shove her head into me and push me around when she wants me to scratch her ears. She thinks the car is her own personal transport and likes to sit in the driver seat with her head out of the window, terrorising any passing trade.
So, there I was, sitting typing as stated earlier, a glass of whiskey sitting at my elbow for inspiration when required. I am busy re-writing Pretty Boy Three. (PB One won Gold at the Koestlers, PB Two won Platinum) and it is coming along very well. As usual I have taken a true situation and twisted it to suit myself and make a decent story out of it. Anyway, I reached a sort of natural pause and sat back to look at what I had done, the sitting back included easing my feet. WHAM! I must have scared Tara temporarily because she bit my foot. It's true, let sleeping dogs lie, they bite your feet otherwise. She didn't break the skin so she wasn't trying too hard, nearly ripped my thumb off a couple of weeks back but that's another story.
"Hey!" said I, less than delighted, but her ears were down so she knew she had done wrong. I gave her a good scratching and she settled down again. I'll have to be a bit more careful when I am doing my John Steinbeck impressions, that's all.