Monday, September 05, 2011

How That Dog Scored Me Steak by Mr. Norman Whiskers

During the storm, of course, I was not the least bit worried. After conducting some calculations, I set up the most inviting sleeping spot for Hell Hound against the wall near a large, wind-vulnerable tree. But, as usual, my plan to rid my world of that stink pot backfired.

Here's what happened. In the wild weather Hell Hound freaked out, insisting that she must guard the children even if it meant dog death. She was sleeping beside their tent when I had, what I believed was, the most brilliant idea someone with fur has ever thought.

Knowing that the only thing that could tempt that hound to leave the side of the tent would be a shot at fame, I went and pressed the phone intercom from another room so that it rang near the tent. Then I ran and answered it in front of the dog.

"Hello. Yes, this is Mr. Christie," I said, deepening my voice and being careful to curb the pur. "Sure Ernie Anastos, I will tell Hell Hound the message."

"That was Fox 5 News, Hell Hound," I whisper-shouted, feigning excitement. The dog sat up, head tilted and ears swinging with interest. "Ernie Anastos says there's a spot for you as a weather anchorman. He's right on our block waiting for you in the news van! This is your big chance to be a star, Hell Hound. Don't let it slip out of your paws now!"

Hell Hound leaped up and started toward the closet for rain gear. Then she sat down, ears drooping. "But who will guard the children?" she asked.

"Don't worry Simon Dog, I will take care of the little buggers!" I volunteered.

But the dog questioned my ability as usual. "How are you going to take care of kids if you can't even remember my name, Cat?"

"Fighto, I promise I will be the most loyal and careful watcher of these children so that you can follow your dreams! Go on, Spot! The bright lights are waiting, and I'm happy for you," I said, tapping her back with my paw.

"Wow, Cat. I guess I misjudged you all these years. Thanks," she said, and then slipping on a rain coat, she snuck out a door that had swung open in the storm. That dumb hound's last words were:

"If reporter Ti-Hua Chang can do it, then so can I!"

Next the wind was flapping her ears as she waddled towards the road. I was rubbing my paws together and shouting "finally, FINALLY!" as I watched the impending disaster from the front door.

But my lady saw that dog wandering in the driveway from an upstairs window and shrieked!

Next thing I knew everyone was up, running and yelling- "The dog is in the hurricane! the dog is in the hurricane!"

And I was like- "Yeah, so what."

Then that dog was being carried inside and my Lady was fussing over her!

"Can you imagine a life without our dear Hell Hound? How about some special storm steak treats for my favorite furry friends," she said, opening the refrigerator.

So, my plan sort of worked out anyway. I still don't like that dog.

-Norman Whiskers

1 comment:

Milk Man said...

It is funny when it is happening and even funnier when I read 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.


Loren Christie

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