And just like that…the Fickle Paw of Fate snatches my good times and freedom and throws moi behind bars.   I ask you, what’s up with that?   What kind of capricious Dog Deity allows the imprisonment of the innocent?   And without due process, if you will.   Nobody read me my rights at any time before Slow unceremoniously escorted me to the lock-up.   Hey, I watch Law and Order with you, you daffy old twit!   I suffer through the Regular one, the Criminal Intent one, the SVU one – all of those mindless cop shows that I watch with you every day.   Don’t you think I know you have to read me my rights before you shamelessly incarcerate me?   Somebody named Miranda will GET you, you old woman, if I don’t get you first!

I think life suits me better as an Only Dog.   When I was in Texas I seemed to have fewer problems, if you catch my drift.   Hmmmm….let’s think about what’s different in South Carolina.   Oh, I know!   I have three competing siblings out here.   Ollie, the Dude with different colored eyes, which is very suspicious, if you ask me.   That’s just for starters.   He’s all about getting petted ALL the time.   “Hello, my name is Ollie, and I’m a Pet-a-holic.”   Geez Louise.   Can you possibly go for FIFTEEN MINUTES without a Peep’s hand on your head, for God’s sake?   I mean, it’s like you think you have this whole monopoly thing going on.   Is that what happens when I’m gone?   You get all Super Sensitive and don’t want Pretty to pet moi?   If that’s the situation, you suck.  You suck, you suck, you suck.   And I won’t stand for it.   I’m getting MY pets, too, Big Boy, and I’m the Red Man of Action so I’ll bark and bark and bark until somebody pets me RIGHT NOW!

And, as for the other two sisters, they’re a real pair, too.   I can tolerate Annie because she was actually with Pretty before I was, so she has seniority.   And I can respect seniority along with the best of them.   Plus, she spends all of her time with that ridiculous cone on her head because she’s got this obsessive compulsive licking problem.   OCD.   OCD.   OCD.   Lick, lick, lick…or lips, lips, lips, as Carmen calls it.  Now, Carmen’s a story for another day.   At any rate, I have to feel a twinge of sympathy for Annie with her head in prison all the time.   Sympatico.

 As for Chelsea, the black lab, she’s pretty much a nonentity.   All she does is sniff around for tennis balls or anything that she can drag to a Peep to get them to throw it for her.   Whatever.   She’s so hopeless and not the brightest bulb in the socket, either.   HUGE. BLACK.  BLOB.   And the girl can put some food away, let me tell you.   I guess I can thank her for the three meals I get in SC versus the two meals I had in Texas with Slow.   So, hey, I can show her a little gratitude periodically.

I believe the root of the problem is my lack of any interest whatsoever in SHARING.   My therapist calls me narcissistic, but I find that a bit harsh.   I don’t want to share, don’t want to share, don’t want to share.   I prefer having my Peeps to myself, my food served in my own special bowl with no one hovering around looking longingly at it, and I particularly don’t want to be left in the house while Pretty and Slow go out.   And that, my friends, is why you see me trapped behind bars today.   Somebody stop me before I reach the Point of No Return!   I can’t quit barking when I see them go for the keys.   Help me!   Help me!   Help me!

Too late.   Woe is me.   I am undone.   My freedom has been taken away, and I have been placed in solitary confinement.  ( Well, not too solitary.  Chelsea’s on the sofa right next to the cell.)   I vow that I’ll be better, Slow and Pretty!!   Please don’t leave me in this horrible filthy dungeon with rats crawling around me!   Or, was that what they did when the Count of Monte Cristo was in the dungeon?   Oh, well.   There’s probably a rat somewhere.   If you’ll just let me out this one time, I promise I’ll be so good for the rest of my miserable life!   Oh, I’m so sorry, so sorry, so sorry, Pretty!   The Devil made me do it!

 Sigh.   All this angst, and not a Peep to appreciate it.   I think I’ll go find some clean clothes in a basket in the laundry room and piss all over them.   Don’t tread on the Red!!