If the Mayans are right, then we only have about five weeks
left on this planet. That said, in the spirit of full disclosure, while I don’t
believe in End-of-Times prophecies, I am fascinated by this one, and not simply
because I have a degree in Anthropology, but because I own the Hound from Hell.
Seriously.
However, before I can tell you that part of the story, I
have to tell you this part first.
You see, subconsciously I think I’ve known all along… and
looking back – the signs were there. They were. She bites the groomer when he
tries to shave her. She cries when you play Gregorian chants for her. She
sleeps on my head, which may not sound like Hell to you – but trust me on this
one, it is… The list goes on and on. But it wasn’t until last year that I
became extremely suspicious, when she got on the scale at the vet and weighed
66.6 pounds. At the time, we all just nervously chuckled like, “ha ha… that’s
odd” and avoided making eye contact with each other. This year, no one found it funny when her check-up cost me $66.60. OK,
that’s a lie. We all thought it was hilarious and commented that Satan could
have been a little sneakier. I mean come on, really. Why didn’t the Dark Lord
have it ring up as:
$65.95 (price of the Beast’s shots plus 5% state sales tax) or
$76.95 (price of the Beast’s shots with pet accessories) or
$65.66 (Wal-Mart price of the Beast’s shots) or
$64.66 (next week's Wal-Mart price of the Beast’s shots)
$65.95 (price of the Beast’s shots plus 5% state sales tax) or
$76.95 (price of the Beast’s shots with pet accessories) or
$65.66 (Wal-Mart price of the Beast’s shots) or
$64.66 (next week's Wal-Mart price of the Beast’s shots)
Why? Why not make me work for it?
Maybe it’s because I can’t do math (as you can tell). Maybe
it’s because I’m too ADHD for subtlety. Or maybe it’s because her name is
closer to one of Othello’s dogs, Tray, Blanch, and Sweetheart, than something bad-ass
enough to qualify her as the Dog of War. Besides, it’s not just her name, it’s
her personality and girth that makes it impossible to imagine Julius Caesar's Shakespearean spirit,
raging for revenge, with Ate by his side come hot from Hell, screaming, “Cry
havoc and unleash the bat-shit crazy puppy that's shaped like a Twinkie with legs.”
With that, talk to you later. And, if you're in the United States, have a lovely, safe, warm Thanksgiving holiday.
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