I hear a lot of puppies are going to obedience school and coming out with nothing to show for it except unrealistic expectations, debt and unmarketable skillsets. My neighbor Vern said that’s probably the reason they’re always excited about begging for food and doing pointless stuff. Don’t get me started. I come from a different generation. My education started the moment I realized I was in a grocery store parking lot inside a cardboard box with free puppies misspelled on the side of it. Have I told you that story? In those days (in addition to grit, determination and character) we had a little something called situational awareness. It’s a fancy term for not peeing in the kitchen. That’s how we did things back then. My pal Sparky had plenty of situational awareness, it’s just that sometimes the situations he was aware of involved imaginary badgers. As I’ve said before, Dachshunds were specifically designed to snuff out treacherous Mustelidae and it wasn’t his fault there weren’t any badgers in Lake View Terrace. So when I heard Mrs. Baxter had enrolled Sparky at Mr. Sheeler’s Academy for Bad Dogs I felt terrible. The place was notorious for holding troubled dogs to impossible standards. Sparky, on the other hand, was thrilled. He thought the Academy sounded like just the kind of place he could finally fine-tune his “badger death grab”—a move he’d been working on ever since the unfortunate incident at Mr. Mevel’s convenience store. Don’t get me started. I wasn’t just worried about Sparky not having a good time, I was worried about the other dogs in his class. If I’d learned anything over the years it was that my pal was highly susceptible to external manipulation. Which reminds me of the time Sparky fell in with the wrong crowd on his first day of class.
Happy BIRTHDAY CHUNKY!!!This birthday boy deserves every lick of his cake. Put your paws together for our favorite @bigchunkymonkey and his St. Patrick's birthday!
Morty Exposes The Industrial Chew Toy Complex
If humans got one thing right, it’s the IRS. Wonderful profession. More of a calling than a job really. If I understand Mr. Baxter correctly, it’s an entire agency that sneaks around making sure everybody else is on the up and up. Newsflash puppies: That’s what I do everyday—have been for the better part of a decade. Don’t get me started. Of course sometimes I don’t know why I bother. Most puppies are hopeless. It’s all entitlement and excess with these goofballs. Doggles®? Are you serious!? Ha! I can see fine without “stylish protective eyeware” thank you very much. Who comes up with this junk? When I was a puppy I had one tennis ball. One. Kept it for three years and it wasn’t even new to begin with. That’s how we did things back then. Don’t get me started. Did I complain? Heck no! I was grateful and took damn good care of my belonging—dropped it in my water bucket every now and then, kept it clean as best I could. No telling when I’d get another one if God forbid something happened to it. Of course that was all before the meteoric rise of the Chew Toy Industrial Complex. That’s right puppies, I’m talking about a shadow pack of elites—probably Huskies—who control everything. But don’t expect to read about it in The Droolitzer, I’m pretty sure Bogie is in on their mainstream agenda. Canine social engineering and whatnot. Newsflash puppies: life’s not all biscuits and belly rubs. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. And whatever happened to carefully burying your bones for a rainy day? Lemme guess? You don’t wanna get your wittle paws durtie. Ha! Anyway, who’s funding this surplus of assets in the canine community? That’s what I want to know. Half these puppies are underemployed at best. Unbelievable. Which remind me of the time…