Hello odorless, non-edible television device that mesmerizes humans. Today presented a once in a lifetime opportunity for a hell hound of the Beagle sort. Milk Man left the gate open in the backyard. It all started when a stranger pulled up in a big truck that smelled awful. He opened up this hole in the ground where the Christies dump all of their "excrement." (Do ya like that word, I just took it from an SAT prep book on the shelf here.) Then he sucked up all of the excrement into a big hose. Milk Man and the stranger were talking when I made a mad dash for the gate. I got out, and no one noticed, so I ran until I had a snoot attack at the corner. I was gasping for air when two nice humans dressed for a funeral approached. "Oh, SH$%!" I barked. Not the ghosts of my Christmas Future again!" One of the humans bent down to give me a pet, and I jumped back. (I watch America's Most Wanted. I know about strangers.) The man had a cookie in his pocket, and I sniffed it out and snatched it. He forgave me, and that's when I judged him to be a safe character. Then the woman he was with asked me if I'd like to go home to my Eternal Father, like other good dogs. I stood my ground. "No," I barked, "Get the @^#%$ out of my way." That's when they handed me some literature and taught me about my soul. On the pamphlet was written the title:
Should I fear HELL?
"Obviously, not," I snorted, "My mother named me Hell Hound. Sounds like a place where I might meet my eight brothers and sisters." Then I wondered, ...."but what if 'HELL'...is a synonym for THE POUND? I hate that place. I DO want to be saved from there!" I barked.
The humans glanced at each other, and grinned. "Read the pamphlet," they said, "and if you'd like to learn more, please give us a call."
"Whatever," I barked. Then I tried to run past them. The tall male human grabbed me and put me in a snoot hold. "He must be one of PETA's soldiers, to know a move like that." I figured.
"Alright, Alright!" I barked. "I'll read the Should I Fear Hell book." As I turned through the pages, the humans smiled and nodded. A few paragraphs into it I shook my head. "Oh, see, no way," I barked. "I can't do this." (No repetitive barking prayers, no celebration of birthdays, no stealing or biting...) I pushed the book back to them with my paw. "Thank you, but I'm already being raised by a Catholic, and that's hard enough." I barked.
So then I did something I never thought I'd ever do in a million years. I, Hell Hound the dog, trotted home. The Christies never even knew I had left. I figure, they already saved me once from the pound, so my bet is that this is just about the only home in the world where I can raise Hell myself without getting executed. Now I'm writing my own pamphlet with the help of Microsoft Publisher. It's called: WHY THE DEVIL SHOULD FEAR ME... By Hell Hound. Look for it on the NY Times Best Seller list this Spring.
Should I fear HELL?
"Obviously, not," I snorted, "My mother named me Hell Hound. Sounds like a place where I might meet my eight brothers and sisters." Then I wondered, ...."but what if 'HELL'...is a synonym for THE POUND? I hate that place. I DO want to be saved from there!" I barked.
The humans glanced at each other, and grinned. "Read the pamphlet," they said, "and if you'd like to learn more, please give us a call."
"Whatever," I barked. Then I tried to run past them. The tall male human grabbed me and put me in a snoot hold. "He must be one of PETA's soldiers, to know a move like that." I figured.
"Alright, Alright!" I barked. "I'll read the Should I Fear Hell book." As I turned through the pages, the humans smiled and nodded. A few paragraphs into it I shook my head. "Oh, see, no way," I barked. "I can't do this." (No repetitive barking prayers, no celebration of birthdays, no stealing or biting...) I pushed the book back to them with my paw. "Thank you, but I'm already being raised by a Catholic, and that's hard enough." I barked.
So then I did something I never thought I'd ever do in a million years. I, Hell Hound the dog, trotted home. The Christies never even knew I had left. I figure, they already saved me once from the pound, so my bet is that this is just about the only home in the world where I can raise Hell myself without getting executed. Now I'm writing my own pamphlet with the help of Microsoft Publisher. It's called: WHY THE DEVIL SHOULD FEAR ME... By Hell Hound. Look for it on the NY Times Best Seller list this Spring.
6 comments:
one of these days you will have to go back on one of my 390 blogs and find the one called DOG AT LARGE...what a story..true true treu...i went to jail for it....eph pub lib #809575455
may of this year...two posts one on criminals and the other a bench warrent for my arrest which said""bring him to me boys"..addressed to all sanpete law enforcement officers...day or night, bring him to me boys...can you believe this can happen in america...i still shudder thinking about it
no, i have to qualify this ...wrong....not the crimal one on the top of may 2008, but lower you will see a post listed on my side bar may 2008 on the cops have finaaly got the putz...that is the one to read
I have a strange aversion to anyone wearing all black. Weird since I am all black. But my people usually wear all kinds of colors. If I see those all-black-wearing-people walking toward our house I go crazy, like I used to do for cats before I got used to them. If my person would open the door I might go bite them, but she won't so I can't. Actually I never really bit anyone and don't think I could. But I would want to.
My person smelled like she'd been petting another dog the other day. Was it you, Hell Hound?
Yes, Bear Midnight. Your person visited me, and denounced my mistreatment by the Christies. I'm wondering if she will write me a letter of reference for my PETA membership. Your person is very kind; I can sniff out this quality with my snoot. Anyway, Alpha Dog says you can come over sometime and watch Animal Planet with me.
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