Okay, you've been patient, so here's the story. It has come to my attention that my Constitutional rights have been violated numerous times under the dictatorship of the man. Everyone in this house has the right to come and go as he or she pleases, including the dullard sharpherd. I, however, am only allowed to go out and about when one of the humans decides to lead me outdoors with a retractable cord attached to a silly pink harness they make me wear. Therefore I am determined to find a way I can experience the same benefits others in the home enjoy. I will be very patient, for right now it is far too cold to go outside without freezing my nipples off, but come Spring things are going to change, man.
Now to my epiphany and the escape plan...
I had spent Saturday watching with fascination this strange ritual of the Mary Kay open house. I have no idea why it is called an open house because every time I attempted my escape, the doors quickly closed. I did some investigations of the strange women who came through the doors, noticing that each one of them handed Pookie a sum of money before leaving. Naturally I concluded that money is the means to escape. I must be an indentured servant, like my great uncle Pablo!
I decided I had to come up with the green to pay my way out, so I looked at my assets. As I told you before, I have stockpiled a vast number of rawhide bones, many of which I stole from Tucker the sharpherd. I also have an extensive wardrobe, but I will need these if I decide to hit the road for any length of time. Other than these things, the only other objects in my possession are some tattered toys from which I have already removed the squeakers, rendering them worthless. Taking all this into account, I made my move.
Selling my bones was my only option. I know what you are saying...she's crazy. She risked her well-being for those bones! Desperate times call for desperate measures.
Taking inventory, I went about selecting a bone I thought would fetch a good sum or at least enough to open the front door. I found it very hard to part with any of them, so I did the only thing I could think of - I decided to sell one of Tucker's bones behind his back. I am so freakin' clever.
While Tucker was busy scratching himself (one of several deranged hobbies he enjoys), I grabbed his rawhide bone and sprinted to the kitchen. There I found an incredible array of Mary Kay displays that made everything look very appealing. I took the bone and positioned it under one of the tables so that it looked like part of the display. It was quite fetching if I do say so myself. The bone was slightly used, but anyone who was going to buy the Mary Kay face crayons was sure to instantly fall in love with the vintage, tasty bone.
I waited patiently to make a sale, but no one seemed to want to bite. I felt that maybe the customers were intimidated by me, sitting next to the bone like a used car salesman, so I left the scene for a few minutes. When I returned, the bone was gone! I looked to Pookie, who I felt probably sold the bone for me in my absence, but she paid me no mind. Someone had stolen my bone! I sniffed around the women's purses to find the perpetrator, but the bone was nowhere to be found. There was only one more explanation...
The man.
I found him upstairs with the sharpherd, who had been banished to the bedroom due to his stench, ill-manners and propensity to run in tight circles like a fool until he decides to hump the legs of strangers. The man had given the bone back to Tucker!
I demanded payment for the bone, but Tucker turned his back to me. Instantly, I confronted the man with a series of short, purposeful barks, but he was too dumb to understand me. Once again the man kept me down like I am a second-class citizen. My dream of the ultimate sale was dashed, as well as my chance for freedom. Grrrrrrrrrrr!!!
I did, however, successfully retrieve the bone itself by using my superior acting skills. I faked a hamstring injury perfectly and was given the bone to ease my pain. Tucker did not seem convinced, and the fact that the bone was transferred into my possession caused him to turn his back to me in disgust. Check out the pic. Sweet.
That's my story, and I'm sticking to it.
Z.
Tucker and I discuss my emergency.
Monday, December 8, 2008
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MY DAILY POLLS. VOTE WISELY, GRASSHOPPER.
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