Big Brass Ones

The truth can finally be told.

Inspired by the many inspiring stories and posts here on Dogster, particularly in the Adoption and Rescue forum, I recently began seeing a dognotherapist specializing in false recovered memory syndrome. After many grueling therapy sessions, and not a few doses of sodium pentothal, I am finally able to confront the fact that I have been living a lie.

All that stuff about a kindly Gordon setter breeder in Petaluma, California is nothing more than a cover story implanted in my febrile young mind by the crypto-fascist, quasi-corporate, government-funded, military breeding program of which I am a product. And, while the goal of that program may have been laudable enough—the creation of cortico-steroid, adrenaline enhanced, self-actuated doggie nuggets to be used as food for Special Forces super ticks—the means, involving as they did the capture, confinement, and ruthless exploitation of un-neutered badgers, were utterly unconscionable.

When I was rescued in a “wet” operation by my mommy and her life partner, I resembled nothing so much as a cross between a kangaroo fetus and an African bull frog.

$175,000.00 worth of cosmetic surgery, prosthetic ear-flap transplants, and hypo-allergenic, free-range, never-tested-on-animals vegan dog food later—all of it paid for by a second mortgage on my mommy’s house and the sale of her son’s spleen—I am as you see me now, a passable facsimile of a Gordon setter.

The bank is about to foreclose on the house, I’m afraid, and the kids are fresh out of spleens. So mommy will be taking me with her to live in her Prius. The next-door neighbors with the pool, the AC, the Hummer, and the agility course in their back yard offered to take me in (the b@st@rds!), but mommy said she’d rather live with me in a car than see me happy. Or something like that. She woves me vewy much.
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Now, surely, that’s a five-paw sob story. Now if only I could achieve that whiney tone of self-righteous busibodiness demonstrated by some of my contemporaries, particularly that cute doggie whose posts may really be written by Francis Bacon’s mommy...