Tuesday, 4 September 2012

Some things are doggedly simple.

It’s not all that easy, to sit on four legs and watch all of you make a spectacular mess of most things.
Other than, air conditioning. You got that right, that I’m very thankful for.

So, back to what is going on. There seems to be a lot of war.
Now I get that when you are on two legs, testosterone is the only thing which makes you feel real.
I get it. It’s sad you guys don’t have a tail- because sometimes, I feel a tail really does it for me. Really, all this fighting over oil, (water will follow, I hear), it’s a bit pointless. Don’t get me wrong, I know me and my brahs got a bad rep for starting the whole “peeing around our territory”, but we stop at the peeing and friendly brawling. Bombing each other senseless,  destroys what you were fighting for.
Sometimes, humans, not so smart.

Then, there is the whole bit on how you treat your ladies.
People, people! That is not cool.
Ladies are meant to be manipulated into holding you and giving you more food, only with adorable, harmless tactics like big, puppy eyes and incessant happy yelping and licking (Trade secret). We dogs have kept more romance alive than you. Of course, we’re speaking to the concerned authorities and soon there will be a PIL filed against attributing male douchebag behaviour, to him being a “dog”. As if, they ever could.
Take Todd Akin, for example. Matty, the wisest German Shephard in our neighbourhood- he was appalled, when he heard Mr Akin's views on what constitutes legitimate rape. News has spread, and some dogs near the Missouri area will be leaving Mr Akin unpleasant smelling presents, outside his door. We call it our illegitimate reaction to his apparently, legitimate views.

The other day I stared at your machine for a really long time. The really shiny one, that you keep cleaning and dusting and spend most of your evenings with.
I’m all for anthropological research. So, I stared and stared and then I got distracted by a potato which fell off the table. Maybe, I missed a beat, but what is in that thing that’s more fun than chasing your own tail? Or. Playing with me?
 I’m more emotive company, plus no one ever got bad eyesight by playing with their dog for too long. I also read off a piece of newspaper (which I tore, you know for kicks), that canine company releases stress.

Basically, I  thought I’d write to you guys. Help you fix things. Keep it real. Keep it street.
 Advice can come from strange quarters, but it can still be meaningful (that’s what the Marla, the Spitz on our street said to the Great Dane. She handles most of his investments now). I hope you guys pull it together.

Meanwhile, one final word of caution to Ms Hilton and her friends- Do not stuff any of us into your purses. A chihuaha in an oversized bag will not make you cute- Surgery is a more reliable option.

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