The Rip Van Wrinkler, XXIII, Issue 2, May 2019 Page 12 <previous page > <next page> |
The Maddie Chronicles
Hello. I’m here today to give my State of the Paw address. It sucks! The Bald Two Legs tried to delay my scheduled rebarks with pure Two Legged Sketchiness. I was awakened late last night to a loud boom. Normally I feel the boom as well as hear it when the Blonde Two Legs shoves me out of the big grrrl bed during a dream where I’ve almost caught the bunny. She tries to say I roll out but I recognize a late night bed space grab when I feel one. Anyway, I turned over, released some belly tension, smiled at the Blonde’s reaction and went back to sleep. I woke up to Moist! The Bald Two Legs peed al over my backyard. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it! This put me in rapid download mode as I could not search for the proper pee patch. Instead I had to run, squat, endure drippage, and rush back inside. Once inside I was again faced with the Blonde’s DIE ATE policy. I was not fed a warm repast of eggies and pig. You know, ham, bacon, or sausage. I’ll take either or all. I was give a cold dog biscuit. Then that worthless Bald Boob came out , made Hash and eggies, and ate them all. I only got a sniff. I even did the paw scratch drool on the floor at his feet. No payment for a floor show is pure sketchiness. This is an unfair Trade agreement! We must “Make Maddie Ate Again”. I have instituted a firm shoe immigration policy. I am relocating all left shoes the Bald Dude leaves unsecured to a canine holding area. If I am provided with warm cheese eggies, pig, and warm milk I will reunite the left shoe with its family, the right shoe. If a good belly rub occurs after said meal on a warm blanket then I will admit to hiding the socks and show him which toy box they reside. It is time we raise the Woof and regain the unity in this house that is needed for greatness. That means uniting my tongue with the calories required to fill Muh Belly! I Thank you for your attention. Maddie Hi Everyone. Today was a day of discovery. Never stick your nose in an old pointy ears business. You will regret not following this advice. What The Dog Bald Dude. I watched your imperial sketchiness try to leave me two days ago. It was cold and icy and you had grabbed my playhound with promises of bunny. However, the Great Dog above showed you the error of your gormless (It’s a word folks look it up) treatmeant of such an endearing, svelte, beauteous Whippet such as I. Did you for a minute consider where my next chicken breast or warm eggie was to be rendered? No, you did not. I glad you skidded your feckless Two Leggedness around the block. I think I may have discovered a new eating technique. Normally the Two Legs impose a strict kibble and chicken diet upon we fur folk. The Blonde gathers our dishes and goes to the magic closet. She opens the door as we all sniff trying see what treat is going to be extracted. The Trick to this is to not get distracted or the oblivious Two Legs turn a step on your paw. Then they yell at you when you have a hurt paw and say “Don’t make me fall!”. Well, Two Legs don’t make me limp! Anyway, I digress. The Blonde combines the mystery addition to our dishes and portions them out. Then she sits down on her bar stool to eat the meal the Sketchy Chef has cooked. Now the Bald Boob requires watching, normally with narrowed eyes, but he does an excellent job of creating smells and tastes. He sucks at sharing. It’s a core element of his sketchiness. He makes warm eggies, bacon, chicken, pork chops, burgers, and steak. But when I go to demand my fair share the two legs try to pass off zucchini, or carrots, or even Brussels sprouts. I spit one of those out so hard that it made Gambit yelp. Anyway, looking up with imploring eyes, head tilted and paw raised generally gets me a morsel from the Bald Dude. The Blonde is more likely to vegetate me. My problem is the Bald Boob gets distracted with talking or watching TV. I waited almost 15 seconds with my paw raised and wasn’t noticed. Normally, I just stand up and survey the counter but today I lowered my paw rapidly and knocked his foot off the barstool. This got an immediate look but with an almost immediate offering of bacon. I was thrilled. I repeated this three times before the Bald Two Legs stated he wasn’t a Snooze Alarm. I’m not sure what he was talking about because I needed at least three more strips before I could curl up for a snooze. I need to ponder this new information. I wonder if I hit him higher if I can get steak? Maddie I am calculating! The Sultan of Sketchy abandoned me again last weekend. That Bald Two Legs requires constant supervision or a violation of Whippet rights occurs. There is still an implementation of Belly Sanctions by the Two Legs that is unwarranted and unfair. Is it wrong to like Belly Rubs!?! If not, then why is it wrong to increase its size so there is more to enjoy! Also, the increase in weight gives me an advantage to the loud mouth Blonde Two Legs when she gets the urge to scoop me up and announce my weight to a room full of strangers before a pedicure. What’s a little hernia between friends, okay in this case adversaries? Anyway this Diet thing is simply wrong. It’s a two part word Die and It. First, it makes you feel like you’re dying because there is an emptiness in your belly at times when enticing smells abound. Second, they offer you IT to eat! Now, I don’t like being called an ITHEAD or ITFACED, Thank you Trog, nor am I gonna eat IT. Brussels Sprouts and Broccoli are taste bud bombs. I’d rather lick my butt. Well, that’s actually a fun and necessary activity. I’d rather have my temperature taken. Yes, it’s just as invasive as that except going thru the other end. Oh, and reduced calorie kibble is nothing more than fried Tofu air biscuits. I don’t like it. Especially, when the Two Legs are eating steak, and chicken, and bacon!!! I have stolen the Bald Boob’s left shoe. That right the left one because he left me behind. He was focused on pictures of other dogs on his computer. While his Sketchiness was involved with his puppy porn I found just the right spot for that shoe. It is at the foot of his fountain. I’m not sure it fits but let me give say the operative word. Moist. By the time he realizes he needs his shoes to go out, he’s also going to discover he’s getting a free foot moisturizer. Maybe he’ll get the message that he put his foot in it with me. Hold it! I think I smell warm eggies and ham! The Bald Chef is calling my name. I’m not telling him about the shoe. It will be our secret. Maddie |