Wednesday, July 01, 2009

Week Day Update With Hell Hound: I'm Back!


Hello, odorless, non-edible device that mesmerizes humans. It's been a while since you heard from me, as I have been hiding out, assessing Norman Whiskers. He claims to be a sergeant in PETA's army, but I recently received an alarming email from PETA. Read this, Cyborgs, and be shocked:

"Dear Mrs. Hell Hound,
We have checked our army data bases and have no record of a Sergeant Norman Whiskers on payroll in NY. Please be careful, since this impostor may be a fur wearing, chicken-hater in disguise.
Semper Fi,
PETA"

Imagine my horror to know that I am sleeping with the enemy every day on the den floor: a cat impostor PETA soldier. Friends, I have come to the conclusion that this nasty animal wants to kill me. In fact, I'm sure of it, but can alert no one to my distress.

This recent intelligence from PETA has caused me to spiral into a dog-days of summer depression. My demons have unlocked themselves and I am on a food-swiping, toy shredding rampage. The treasures and hostages are hidden in undisclosed locations throughout the backyard.

I have come to the sad conclusion that the cat will get me, eventually. Therefore, it is no use trying to be good. Unless something cat-astrophic happens, I am in trouble with the humans.

Today's news hints at impending doom. The New York Times is tracking a possible gulf storm. Scientists have discovered a black hole 500 times the mass of the sun, the Baltimore Oriels have staged a comeback, and Michael Jackson did not leave his white glove to me like I asked him to in an email in 2004. So I'm stocking up my backyard trench on emergency supplies. Sometimes I day dream that the family is in chaos after some terrible event and Norman cat is crying on his scratch mat, while I bravely move the family to safety in my secret trenches. Then the humans say,

"Oh, Hell Hound, we misunderstood you. You were the good one all along. Hell Hound, please forgive us for being unloving towards you. Here is a steak."

Then I pardon them on the grounds that they provide me with enough cash to purchase ten bags of potato chips and one box of piggy ears. Um, I mean plastic toy bacon- sorry PETA! Every family needs a hero pet.

-Hell Hound

1 comment:

Bear Midnight Miller said...

Hi Hell Hound! Good to hear from you again. I have not been doing too well. I cannot smell, hear, or see very well. I was limping today and my people felt sorry for me. Oreo the cat stayed over for another whole week, but we get along well now. I am grateful that I have alot of nice places to sleep and my people still give me lots of good things to eat. My favorite is chicken fat and I get that alot. Enjoy your youth while you have it.

Dear Internet Traveler,

Welcome to my writer's blog, started about six years ago for fun. Over time, the writing I have posted has ranged from personal reflection, to Long Island history research, to tall tales for my own amusement, to feature articles for local newspapers. As you can see from topics listed here, I travel in many mental directions in regard to interests. Click on the tabs and labels to explore my strange mind which senses that you may be having a criss-cross day. If so, perhaps this blog will distract you. However, please note that if you tell me my blog is beautiful just to get me to advertise rhinoplasty surgery and cheap drugs from Canada in your comment, I will ask the gods to give you a tail that cannot be concealed.

Fondly,

Loren Christie

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