Wednesday, April 11, 2012

April 11th, 2012

Dear Diary,

Now I've done it. Boy howdy. Why am I so bad? Why is what I do considered to be "bad"? Why isn't it applauded as free thinking? Why is opening a closet door, ripping open a plastic bag, and then eating 5 oz of 72% pure dark chocolate considered a "bad" thing. On the contrary I think is shows: initiative, cunning, understanding of physics, and an advanced palate. Believe me, other canines can't figure out these things. I was with Squeak the Chihuahua. (I forget her real name, but it doesn't matter. She's a divot with hair who squeaks ALL THE BLOODY FLIPPIN' TIME. She will not pull it together and for that, I have no patience.) Squeak was all, "Hey! Whatcha doing?! What's going on? IS THAT A SHADOW?! I AM AFRAID OF SHADOWS! IS THAT A REFLECTION?!? HEAD FOR THE HILLS!!" I'm all, "Chillax. If you put your knobby head right there and push, we can get this door open and help ourselves to the chocolate buffet." She was on board, as she listens to everything I say. Bless her. So, knobby head went in, the door moved! Huzzah! Then she fell right into my plan, "Is that a plastic bag? Oh I do so love to play with the plastic bag! May I play with the plastic bag with the swishy swishy swishy noise and the pulling and the ripping? Oh please may I?" Well, who was I to dash her dreams!! Rip away, fuzzball! And so she did, and then the chocolate presented itself and we dug in. I admit, she moved on to the chocolate faster that I thought she would. I thought I'd have a good head start, what with her bag obsession and all... But we both chowed down pretty good. I was quite pleased!!! Then, the people came home. The crying. The waving of hands. The panic and hysteria! The flapping to get us to the... VET.  Why? To find out how I'm so incredibly brilliant so it can be documented for medical history? To get Squeak's vocal chords snipped? Oh diary, you'll never guess what they did... They... They... Sorry. I am a bevy of emotion!! Where is my embroidered hanky?!?!... they made me throw up... INTO A BUCKET. Like a common frat boy on a Friday night!! MISERY. They didn't even hold my ears back. Injustice.

Apparently, they're all "concerned" about "heart failure" when "dogs" "eat" "too much" of the "dark chocolate." What do I have to say about that? Poppycock!!!! That's right. When's the last time you heard that phrase? Well, I'm bringing it back as I feel it's appropriate. You make me throw up glorious deliciousness and then make me sleep overnight with IV fluids, I will yell poppycock at you.

This is me the next day. Like Tiny Tim! Why would a genius like me be reduced to a pathetic Tiny Tim! INJUSTICE.


Terrible. Just terrible. Yellow isn't my color. I'm hopping. Dachshunds are good with the hopping. We just look silly, and THAT is VERY UPSETTING. My image team is very disappointed with this. So please, diary, don't share this with anyone.

Misery.

For the record, I got no treats to make up for all the food I was forced to upturn. Injustice.

Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog

2 comments:

  1. came across your blog, and I have to tell you Beans is a hit! I have a wienedog also and I swear it could have been the same story in her diary. Too cute!

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  2. Dear ME, I'm glad you're enjoying my misery. Please give your wienerdog a hug and a collective sigh for me.

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