And to Think I Almost Succeeded

My human sister Emily and my former favorite person, Paul, have been bringing this huge show-offy dog named Duffy over lately. I have to admit, he's quite handsome in his youth, and his coloring and muscular body are what some may call attractive. Okay, if you want to know the truth, he's hot. This old bag of bones can't help but get a little excited when he's around.

Anyway, Duffy and Dutchy were over for Christmas, and they seemed to think they owned the place. They found all my favorite places in the backyard and defiled them with their own currency. And because of their size, all three of us were stuck outside while the humans ate their ham and their bread pudding. I had earned my place under that table, dammit - I'm 98 human years old, for chrissake, and I've been under the Christmas dinner table for fifteen years. It just wasn't fair!

So what I did was I tricked the young dumb one (Duffy). He was gullible as beans, let me tell you. I told him that if he hopped the fence and caught a deer, the humans would be so proud that they'd let him up on the table to have a go at all the Christmas food. Dutchy got nervous, but I made him seem like a wimp, and sure enough, Duffy thought impressing his new family was a good enough reason to risk his fur and jump the spikey fence.

The stupid dog broke a spire on the fence jumping over it, but he made it over alright. He turned around to look at me, but I told him the deer were getting away, and he'd better scoot! Then, that wimpy dog Dutchy started scratching the hell out of the back door, trying to get the humans' attention. But they just thought that he wanted in to get in. My plan worked. Duffy was gone, and I was in and under the Christmas table in no time.

It took about a half hour for someone to realize the Duffy never came in from outside. That was the end of Christmas dinner. While everyone scurried around trying to figure out how to find that dumb dog chasing deer, I had a tasty snack and then curled myself up on my bed for some peace and quiet.

It was a nice night at home without that big dumb dog taking up all the room. I could tell that I had upset Emily and Paul, but I was back in charge of my own damn home, and it felt good.

The glory didn't last too long. Some nice people who saw some stupid sign at Starbucks (can you believe that the coffee guy had the right idea when he offered Paul a sharpie and a piece of paper?) found Duffy in their backyard, a couple of neighborhoods away from my house. They called Starbucks 'cause they had seen the sign, and got the phone number to call, and then they called my Mom, and Mom called Emily and Paul (who were at the animal shelter), and pretty soon that damn dog was back again. Stupid dog had to get a bath, though, so I guess it still sucks to be him.

Finally, they all left. I almost succeeded in getting rid of the younger, more handsome dog so that my Christmas could be as good as normal. Those few hours of peace were worth it, anyhow.