Wednesday, August 11, 2004

Dog Blogging!

Hail to All Dogs!

This is Henrietta the Hound reporting on recent developments in the dogdom. My private life is without events as usual, just the everyday annoyances of a zero IQ Rethug retriever imitating my every move and trying to beat me in wrestling. Her most recent innovation is the butt whirl. This consists of gyrating wildly and hoping that her heavy thighs might hit me in the chest. By the time her tardy butt arrives I have of course already lightly stepped to the side and caught her neck between my canines. Then a gentle flip sends her over on her head and all that remains is a little bit of snarling at her astonished face. How dare she think that I could be taken by such simple maneuvres?

She reminds me of some other Rethugs and their war plans. If at first you don't succeed, try again, and again...and again.

I have had my bimonthly medical and have been found to be fit to fly planes and steer boats and all the rest of it. The veterinarian commented on my shiny coat and bright eyes and wanted to know the secret for these things in a twelve-year old dog. I told her that it had to be my faith in the Cause: my dedication and trust in the future that will belong to dogs alone. But she, being merely human, didn't understand a word I said. Sometimes I lose all patience with these lower animals who never evolved to ESP, yet are so stupid that they don't even realize it. Heh.

I'm going to share with you something even more important. Not the reason for my intelligence, good looks and very audible barking; they are all inborn, but the reason for my astonishing perseverance and military intelligence: I am a torture survivor. Yes, indeed, I spent my early years cooped up in a box no bigger than the ones humans have for shoes, and the attention that came my way consisted of kicks and broom handles. I learned what all those who are tortured learn: to remember and to hate. I learned to read the human growling and muttering and carefully remembered all the important terms (fucking dog, bitch, cunt). I vowed never to forgive and I have kept that promise.

When I liberated myself I sought a gullible goddess as my base camp and acquired more of those primitive terms that might come in useful (pizza, car, park, walkies and various spelled versions of these). By using these terms and by reacting to them appropriately I have easily conquered the household. My next step in the revolution was to engage several co-conspirators, beginning with Hank. But here the forces of nature worked against me. Who can work with a dog that came without a brain? But she is a dog, nevertheless, and I shall defend her with all my might. I had to change my plans slightly, that is all, and now I spend more time on audible monitoring of the neighborhood. Already several of the nearby houses are for sale, and I'm hopeful that they will be taken over by suitably teachable dogs. I shall keep you posted!

Henrietta the Hound