Hell Hound Changes History!

(This one is for Mr. Putz.)

Hell Hound Changes History!

Senators, run for your lives...

Hello odorless, television device that mesmerizes humans. It's me, Hell Hound, stealing a few minutes to write about my latest adventure. It all started last weekend, while I was romping in my world. I spotted my mother, Trixie, and her gang of rabid, abandoned Beagles approaching me. At first I was very excited to see her again; (our first meeting occurred a few months ago when Norman Whiskers was banking on the idea that her friends would send me to doggie heaven.)

"Mother, is it you, come again to visit me?" I asked as she hopped the fence. Standing beside her was Biggy Smalls, the rapper pigeon who has a beef with me. (Long story short, I ate his brother.)

"Hell Hound. There is something I have not shared with you," said my birth mother, hesitating.

Then Biggy put his feathered arm around my Trixie-Mom.

"Ima be brief, dawg. Your mama and me is married now," the pigeon interrupted. As his words stung my mite-free ears, I noticed a bunch of matching gold chains around my mom's neck. She smiled weakly, revealing a gold fang.

"Nooooooooooo!" I exclaimed, running amok in the yard. "This can not be happening to me!"

Inside the house again, I decided to watch some Fox News to take my mind off of my dysfunctional family. However, my conscience was driving me mad.

"I'm losing my mind!" I whined. "My mother married a pigeon! According to that sign on television, I have to Stop Obamacare or Grandma Will Die! What is this world coming to?"

(Then, Hell Hound's proud heritage, sans pigeons, rose up before her eyes.)

"Am I not descended from Billy Goat, a member of the livestock of General Grant? Am I not the great-grand-dog of President Richard Nixon's best friend?"

(Suddenly, the image of Checkers, Richard Nixon's beloved furry Statesman popped into her mind's eye.)

"Hell Hound, my great, grand-dog, go to the White House! Confront President Obama. Save Hyde, Save the world," the ghost of Checkers chanted.

I shook my snoot in disbelief, because I had never seen an actual specter before, (not counting Scutch the Butcher- a crazy dead stray cat who lives in our attic). Checkers was instantly gone, and I was inspired! I started running to Washington D.C. (After all, politicians look yummy on television.) Ima get me some doggy snacks. I thought.


At Walmart I found the perfect disguise. The checkout girl confirmed that the hunting hat and weird glasses did not make me look too Communist.

Finally, I got to the Senate floor, and stopped to relieve myself. The humans were snarling and bug-eyed. I knew I was in the right place.


"Show me your leader," I demanded bravely, but they did not comply. Soon women in pants suits and men with toupees were pelting me and trying to pin me down. I started ripping up that place and biting heels.

In the meantime, I got some good inside gossip for my job as a contributor to the website OMG! Senator Mitch McConnell is really tough on the teeth. I cracked my fang trying to rip his socks off. (My Lady says he needs to chill; no wonder- it turns out that guy wears his pajamas under his clothes.) Nancy Pelosi's ring tone is "Iron Man." Her phone was tasty. When she caught me under the table she started beating me. She was wearing a big ring with her image engraved that left an impression on the top of my head. (Write that down, PETA. I can forward pics.)

The last politician I chewed was Senator Robert Byrd. He was playing Sudoku under the table. He tasted just like chicken. That's when the Secret Service dragged me out of there and handed me over to the Homeland Security Department. They locked me in a dog pen in the coat closet.

Are they kidding me? These people better get on the ball before something bad happens to our country again. Every terrorist knows that dog pens are no match for trained Hell Hounds. I just ate my way through the plastic floor. That's when I realized how hungry I felt and I noticed a stack of papers placed on a low shelf. The cover sheet read:

HEALTHCARE Reform Bill

A tragedy in multiple acts

rough draft #456,660

Starring: Barack Obama and Friends

It was yummy. Then I licked a hole through the transparent door and wandered down the hall looking for dessert.

That's when I heard:

"Come on, boy, it's lunch time!"

I knew it was the voice of President Obama calling his pathetic pure bred Snickerdoodle dog.

I adjusted my disguise and pranced into the room. Lucky for me, the new door to the Oval Office is transparent now too.

President Obama hit the intercom button.

"This isn't my dog," he said, alarmed.

Then I ate the phone wire.

"That's right, Mr. President. I'm Hell Hound, the mutt you rejected in the reality show competition to be the next First Dog. I'm back and I have demands."

"Okay." said the president, calmly. "What do you want?"

"I want you to save your Hyde and compromise," I threatened him. "Make me First Dog!"

President Obama sighed, and shrugged.

"You say that you want to be First Dog. But that's a compromise that the American people cannot, and will not accept. We may not see eye to eye, but I think I can do something that will make you go away, Hell Hound. I will write an Executive Order to preserve and extend the Hyde Amendment. So, go home, Hell Hound. You accomplished great things today, and tell your human mother that I got her 500 pro-life emails. I still don't agree, but obviously I have to hear her!"

So I trotted home, thinking quietly about the day's strange occurrences. Overall, I was proud of myself, and my Lady. On my way home, I returned my disguise at Walmart since I never cut off the tags.