Friday, March 19, 2010

A Word From The Dog

I’ve been sitting in an editorial suite all week and haven’t had a lot of contact with the HamannEggs crew. So I thought I’d turn it over to the dog. Take it away, Grover.

Hey everybody! It’s me. Your loveable pal Grover. I know I haven’t written in a while and I know what you’re thinking. “That terrific dog is angry because The Man and The Woman up and had another stinky, hairless puppy.” You know what? I’m not that angry. This one isn’t as loud as the first. And it just sits there. Come talk to me when it starts grabbing my tail and we’ll discuss my recipe for Baby Butt Tartare.

I’ve mostly been keeping to myself. You see, I’ve really been getting into my art. Hmm? What’s that you ask? You want me to tell you about it? Well, I really don’t want to spend these pages talking about my dabblings in the finer things. But if you insist…

I’m very excited about my latest project. It’s called “Yard Of Poop.” Over the winter, I’ve methodically covered the back yard in my leavings. It’s a lot harder than it seems. You just can’t toss it around willy nilly. It’s like decorating a Christmas tree. It should look random, but not too random. The viewer should feel as though they are looking at a model of the Milky Way galaxy.

Well, the other day the temperature shot up to 455 degrees (65 human degrees). The humans got really excited, like they couldn’t smell the barometric pressure dropping.

Coincidentally, The Man’s brother’s puppies were over. So The Woman announced that we were all going outside. I instantly got excited. My masterpiece would finally be recognized. I bounded outside ahead of the pack to talk about my motivation, my inspiration, etc. The Woman and the puppies came out and…then things went badly.

The puppies who could walk started stepping in my masterpiece! I shouted, “Hey you puppies! Stop tramping all over my Milky Way!” But it just came out in barks. Stupid Golden Retriever tongue.

A couple puppies started crying. I thought, “You’re crying? I’m the one who should be crying. That’s three months of work you’re scraping off your shoe.”

The Woman angrily collected my whole artwork in a bucket. And then threw the bucket in the trashcan.

Well, I guess this gives me the chance to get back to my novella. It’s about a dog, a Man, and lots of romantic misunderstandings.

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