Dogs

August 20, 2013
By

Smurfs in a meat grinder. Blue meat for a black dog. Little guy just wants to be your friend. Big guy just wants to destroy the little guy.

“You’ll get your chance, ol’ Shep.”

wag wag wag wag

It’s a beautiful day at the park. No airplanes, no pennies from heaven, Canadian quarters from purgatory. Parking meters swaying gently in the apple-scented breeze. Your chihuahua crapped on my blanket. Cirrus clouds like smudged angel fingerprints

Excuse me, I said your chihuahua crapped on my blanket. My great-great-great grandnephew made this blanket in the trenches during some bullshit war, and I’ll be damned if

Bullshit kitchen on a bullshit Sunday morning, bullshit housewife opens a can of bullshit expensive dog food, close-up of her bullshit manicure as she slowly pours the bullshit brown chunky sludge into a bullshit crystal dish with otherworldly symmetry, places said dish centered squarely on a bullshit oval velvet mat embossed with PRINCESS in Papyrus font, gently but firmly taps the edge of said bullshit dish with a bullshit sterling silver dessert fork, sending a sharp ping in the key of D rippling through the pristine bullshit gated community. -beat- Sliding glass door shatters, toenails skittering hysterically over linoleum, bark bark bark slobber bark, pit bull (Princess) charges into the kitchen, knocks over the dish, close-up of ruby red eyes as he lunges at the housewife’s porcelain neck, which comes apart like so much cotton candy, you-know-what spraying and splattering here, there and everywhere in between, drips from the kids, happy home happy home

I SAID YOUR CHIHUAHUA CRAPPED

Please don’t bother me while I’m meditating.

WE’LL JUST SEE WHAT JUDGE JUDY HAS TO SAY ABOUT THIS. WHERE DID I LEAVE MY PHABLET

The path from the Big Bang to the turd on your blanket is curved like a sweet boomerang tearing through the baleen of a crying whale. Sarah McLachlan sits in a faux leather wingback chair, laughing maniacally as she dissolves into an envelope of cheap cigar smoke. A paper speedboat zigzags across a lake of violent chemicals, events are set in motion for a tsunami of black sludge to arrive uninvited at Martha’s Vineyard at 4:16 p.m., just in time for

IS THAT A LABRADOODLE???

No, it’s just a photocopy. Its name is Goby and I’m about to throw it away, or make it into a hat and then throw it away, I haven’t decided yet. I found it

wag wag wag wag

I can make it happy

but I’m definitely going to throw it away

probably

stupid dog

2