"Doggolescence" by Rachel Oates and Kyra the Staffy

BOOK TITLE: Doggolescence
AUTHORS: Rachel Oates and Kyra the Staffy
YEAR: 2020
GENRE: Poetry
SUBGENRE: Animal Parodies
GRADE: Pass

All Rachel Oates wanted to do was have some fun at the expense of Gabbie Hanna and her “poetry”. Nothing too serious, just a few parodies from the point of view of Rachel’s lovable doggy Kyra. Because Kyra has childlike innocence, the parody poems are simple by nature, but are much more entertaining than the source material. There are lots of funny ones like “Honey”, “Texts”, and “Mirror”, but also some serious ones like “Nights”. Judging from the effective punch lines at the end of the funnier poems, if Rachel Oates wanted to be a standup comic somewhere down the line, she very well could since she possesses a perfect understanding of joke structures. But a poem like “Nights” will hit you like a heavyweight punch to the gut. Dogs who live at shelters are notoriously lonely since they have nobody to snuggle with and all of the blankets and toys on the concrete floor doesn’t change the fact that the floor is indeed made out of concrete. I know the phrase, “Adopt, don’t shop!” gets used quite liberally, but to be frank, it doesn’t get said enough. Rachel understands this and not only did she get an awesome book out of it, but she has something worth so much more: a loving doggy to call her own. Belly rubs, ear scratches, jowl wiggles, and most importantly, steak treats! All the good things in life come from Rachel’s home. Which is why it’s hard for me to point out one teeny tiny little flaw in this collection: too much bathroom humor for my tastes. But that’s just my opinion and Rachel doesn’t have to adjust her writing style for one reader. All in all, a nice little poetry book even if she openly admits to putting as little effort into it as Gabbie Hanna put into her own book. Four out of five stars! And by the way, the pictures of Kyra are so darn cute!

I Love My Dog

CHORUS

I love my dog X4

VERSE 1

Schipperke, sweetie pea, fluffy love for me

Fur child, jungle wild, energetic style

Tiny puppy, little chubby, man’s best buddy

Barge dog, he’s the boss, barks like he’s God

CHORUS

I love my dog X4

VERSE 2

Butt rubs, back rubs, bath time scrubs

Slice of ham, rack of lamb, feed the little man

Comfy bed, rest his head, after he’s been fed

Spoil him, pamper him, joyous to the brim

BRIDGE

His name is Willem and he’s my baby

You can pet him too, for sure, not maybe

You can love him, he’s sweeter than candy

A bacon cheeseburger will come in handy

A bowl of cereal will earn his friendship

A permanent home will make it endless

But watch out for his hyperactive spark

He’s so happy that he’ll infinitely bark

CHORUS

I love my dog X4

Goddamn Dog

As Tim Coleman laid half asleep in bed on a rainy afternoon, he kept wondering why his girlfriend Jade Quinn had “One More Light” by Linkin Park playing on repeat before she left for work in the morning. She wasn’t her usual peppy self. No smiles. No kisses. Not even a hug. Just cold, empty eyes as she left Tim in charge of dogsitting duty. The pouring rain coupled with the dour mood made him curl up against his pillow even more. A pillow was no substitute for Jade, however. He would have settled for Millie crawling up under the blankets. But then…

Something assaulted Tim’s nose like a wrecking ball to the face and had just about as much knockout power. He pulled his nostrils under the blanket, but he could still smell that rancid, god-awful odor coming from the living room. “Oh no…no, no, no…please tell me she didn’t do it…no…no…NO!”

He threw the blankets off of him and stomped out to the living room wearing just his athletic shorts. The harder he stomped, the more rage pumped through his ogre-like body. The odor set his nostrils nearly ablaze as he tried to suppress the urge to vomit. And then he made it to the living room and saw that Jade’s hardwood floors had become a battlefield of landmines. Gigantic, steaming brown landmines with the general herself laying on the ground in guilt. Millie the salt n’ pepper colored Labrador mooed like a cow before unleashing a cloud of toxic gas from her already putrid bunghole.

“Goddamn it, Millie! You stupid fucking goddamn dog!” shouted Tim from the top of his lungs. “I am so sick and tired of cleaning up your fucking messes! You goddamn dog!” Fury and venom poured from the fat man’s lips with every swearing scream. “I’m going to fucking kill you, you stupid dog!” Though he would never go through on such a threat, Millie wouldn’t have known as she guiltily tucked her head.

Tim stomped to the bathroom and fetched the necessary cleaning supplies for a job this disgusting: paper towels, a mop, and a bucket he filled with soapy water. In between retrieving these necessary items, he kept on roaring like the pissed off lion he was. “You goddamn dog! Quit shitting all over the fucking floor, asshole!”

His first course of action was to scoop up all of the dog turds with god knows how many paper towels before flushing them down the toilet separately. Every time he bent over, the odor triggered his gag reflex to where he wanted to vomit himself inside out. While that would be an instant relief to his aching and tired body, it would also mean more messes to clean up. “Goddamn stupid ass fucking dog!” he screamed.

After flushing the turds down the drain, he sat on the toilet seat for a while and wiped the sweat from his body, which poured like the rainy weather outside. Tim took several deep breaths not only to recover his lost energy, but also in a vain attempt to calm himself down. “Stupid dog…stupid goddamn dog!” he screamed, completely destroying his ambitions of nirvana.

Step two of this ultimate cleaning job was to mop the floors as vigorously as he could. A few strokes in and he was already sucking wind. Wind, by the way, that was broken by a sixteen-year-old dog huddling in the corner. “Stupid dog!” Tim screamed again as he scrubbed the wooden floor. No matter how hard he mopped, the air thickened like he was in a burning building. At this point he was genuinely surprised the smoke alarm didn’t go off during this job. “You stupid motherfucking dog! Quit making me clean up after you, you little shithead!”

Once he was certain the shit was completely cleaned up off the floor, he death-marched to the bathroom to flush the mop water down the toilet. His head ached worse than if he had been beaten with hammers. His heart pounded as if a Mortal Kombat character was trying to rip it out. His lower back flared with pain like he had taken a body slam over a pile of razorblades. Tim sat on the toilet and sucked some more wind, confident that his job was finally over.

He had recovered a modicum of his energy before he put the cleaning supplies back in the bathroom closet. Slowly and languidly, he waddled out to the living room and took care not to slip on the wet surface. The only wet surface he had to deal with it that moment was the one on Jade Quinn’s horrified face, an intensification of what she felt when she left for work this morning.

There she was in her business skirt, high heels, and wrinkled dress shirt. She dropped her purse by her feet and stared down Tim’s guilty soul with wetness in her eyes. Her lips quivered as she tried to form a sentence. “T…Tim…did I just…hear you…yelling at Millie?” No response, only a saggy frown to match his guilt. “Answer me!” she cried.

Tim’s own face quivered as he too tried to muster up the words he needed. “Jade, I’m sorry. She…she shit all over the floor and…I panicked…I would never do anything to hurt Millie, you know that, right?”

Pointing her manicured finger at Tim, Jade fought back the rest of her tears in vain as she mumbled, “You…would never…hurt Millie?” Silence hung between the two lovers like a yawning, fiery chasm. “You just did, you insensitive asshole!” Jade dropped to her knees and held her long blond hair in her hands, emptying her eyes of emotional fluids. Millie slowly edged towards her and got a scratch behind the ears from her one true master.

Tim gingerly approached his girlfriend and knelt down to put his massive hand on her shoulder. Jade swatted him away instantly. “Don’t touch me!” she sobbed. “You’ve done enough damage today!” She hugged Millie around her neck and cried into her salt and pepper fur. “I’m sorry, baby girl. I’m sorry he yelled at you like that.”

Tim stood back up not knowing what else to say. Apologizing didn’t work. Explaining his actions didn’t work. Not even a gentle touch of the shoulder could bring his girlfriend out of her sorrowful abyss. He knew he fucked up badly and could do nothing but sit on the leather couch with his pudgy face in his hands.

“You can’t sit there anymore, Tim,” blubbered Jade. “Not after what you did. This was supposed to be Millie’s special day. I was going to take her to the park and get her ice cream after I got off work. And now…all she’s going to remember is you yelling at her…How could you, Tim?”

“Wha…What do you mean all she’s going to remember? Is that why you played that Linkin Park song this morning? Jade, you can tell me what’s going on.”

Wiping away tears even though they wouldn’t stop coming, Jade lifted her face from her hug with the dog and said, “Millie has stomach cancer. That’s why she’s been going to the bathroom on the floor a lot. And you react to this mild inconvenience by yelling those awful things at her?!”

Tim didn’t notice it when he was cleaning, but now that he thought about it, there were small traces of red in Millie’s stool. The guilt choked him up like a noose around the neck. His eyes grew sore, but he did a better job of hiding his sadness than his girlfriend. Even during this dark time he was too proud to fall apart in front of her. But he couldn’t help it. One tear rolled down his cheek while many more cascaded from Jade’s eyes.

“You know, Jade…there’s no reason…why we can’t still get Millie ice cream.” His voice trembled as he etched out those words.

“Yes, there is!” shouted Jade as she stood back up. “She’ll just shit all over the floor and you’ll scream like a little child again as you clean it up! The only reason why you’re sorry is because you got caught! You don’t care about my dog! You don’t care about my emotions! In fact, get your fat ass off my couch and get dressed! I don’t want you here anymore!”

Tim didn’t get up. He sat there and let another tear roll down his cheek. “I’m sorry, Jade.”

“No, you’re not!” cried Jade as she grabbed Tim’s arm and tried in vain to jerk him to a standing position. When he wouldn’t budge, she just crumpled to a pile on the floor and cried some more, prompting Millie to lick her face dry.

“Jade…if you give me the keys to your car…I will go to the supermarket and buy vanilla ice cream for Millie. She loves vanilla, right?”

“Go to hell, Tim!”

“Listen to me!” urged Tim as he cupped Jade’s shoulders in his hands. “If you still want me gone from here, I’ll go. But please let me get the ice cream for Millie. She deserves that much. Right, old lady?” Tim petted Millie’s head and talked cutely to her about what a good dog she was, even planting a kiss on her wet nose. Millie returned a puppy kiss for his efforts.

Tim then held Jade’s hand in his own and begged, “Please…let me get the ice cream. You can even come with me if you want and we’ll listen to One More Light for as long as you want. I love that song too. And Millie can come ride with us. She can stick her head out the window and…”

“Tim, enough,” said Jade while a holding a hand in front of her boyfriend. She wiped away a tear and sniffed snot up her nose. “I know what you’re trying to do and it won’t work. She’s just going to shit in the car again and you’ll go on another yelling spree. If anybody’s going to get the ice cream, it’s me.”

With that said, Jade and Millie walked out of the house together for a ride in the car while Tim sat on the couch in his shorts sulking it up. A few tears escaped his eyes and he didn’t bother to wipe them away. It was over. It was all over. Not just for him, but for Millie as well. The puppy kiss didn’t even feel like true forgiveness. Knowing his hands were unclean (in more ways than one), Tim Coleman pulled himself off the couch and trudged back to the bedroom, presumably to get his things and go.

And then…he walked past the kitchen and saw something magnetized to the refrigerator door. He pulled down a familiar sheet of glossy paper and studied it for a while before making his final attempt at goodwill towards Jade and Millie. Wasting no more time, he picked up the phone and dialed a number on the sheet of paper. A few rings later, he was patched in.

“Thank you for choosing Pizza Hut. How can I help you tonight?”

“Yes, I’d like an extra large meat lover’s pizza with stuffed crust.” Tim couldn’t contain his sorrow over the phone and it was noticeable.

“Are you okay, sir?”

“Not really. But I’m sure my dog will be happy to see you once you get here with that pizza.”

Goodbye Maggie

***GOODBYE MAGGIE***

Tomorrow afternoon, Dale and I are going to the vet to put our dog Maggie to sleep. She has lived to be sixteen years old, much older than normally expected for her breed. During the final moments of those sixteen years, she’s had a litany of health problems that justify euthanasia. She was blind, deaf, weak, incontinent, physically unstable, and an all around sick dog. She’s constantly in pain and there’s only so much we can do for her before having to make this ultimate decision.

Maggie came into my life in 2005 when her owner, Dale, married my mom in his original home state of Wyoming. She was accompanied by another Springer Spaniel dog named Molly. The two of them would bounce, play, and wrestle happily together all the time. Maggie’s favorite toy was a blue ball that she would fetch while Molly’s was a leather Frisbee. I’ll always remember Maggie and Molly getting in a tug-of-war over the Frisbee and Molly would get an unfair advantage by shaking her head.

Three years ago on Father’s Day, Molly passed away due to lung cancer and it was a death that hit all of us hard, especially Dale. Three years later, here we are again in the month of June having to watch Molly’s adopted sister Maggie be put to sleep. Sixteen years. Sixteen fucking years and it’s all over. Given her declining health, it was a foregone conclusion, but that doesn’t soften the blow that our family will no doubt feel.

There isn’t a whole lot left to say except for goodbye to our elderly ray of puppy sunshine. Rest in peace, Saggy-Maggie. You will be missed dearly.

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“If they say who cares if one more light goes out? In a sky of a million stars, it flickers, flickers. Who cares when someone’s time runs out? If a moment is all we are, we’re quicker, quicker. Who cares if one more light goes out? Well, I do.”

-Linkin Park singing “One More Light”-

"Dog Man: A Tale of Two Kitties" by Dav Pilkey

BOOK TITLE: Dog Man: A Tale of Two Kitties

AUTHOR: Dav Pilkey

YEAR: 2017

GENRE: Graphic Novel

SUBGENRE: Children’s Adventure

GRADE: Pass

An anthropomorphic dog cop aptly named Dog Man has been assigned to protect a laboratory housing a psychomantic fish, who was rebuilt using mechanical parts so that the scientists could sufficiently study his brain. Elsewhere in the city, another scientific experiment takes place as escaped convict Petey the Kitty creates a miniature clone of himself and struggles to raise it like a real kid. Soon the two stories hit a crossroads in a cutely written adventure involving buildings coming to life, a mechanical cat suit capable of superhuman feats, and a gigantic truck full of French salad dressing. It’s a silly story, but one worth enjoying.

While it is true that this graphic novel was intended for small children, you can also enjoy it if you’re an avid pet lover like me. The Petey clone’s innocent antics, Dog Man’s cheerful nature, and even the minor role characters bring out the warm and fuzzy feelings you’d expect from animal literature. My favorite cute moments from the book include putting Lil’ Petey to bed, giving him a bath, and Dog Man bouncing all over the police chief like a real dog. You know what? Why don’t we just give the entire cast of this graphic novel one big cuddle-huggle. Good or evil, they’ve all earned a special place in my heart for the sweetness they bring!

As happy-go-lucky as this book is, it’s not without the occasional sad moment. I can pinpoint three different parts of this book that strike me as heartbreaking: Dog Man’s sad expressions when the police chief tells him he’s a “bad dog”, Petey becoming frustrated with his “kid” and leaving him in a box alone on the streets, and Lil’ Petey drawing picture books for his special friends. Don’t be too turned off by these tear-jerking scenes, because they’ll easily renew your love for animals everywhere. If you’ve got a little kitty or puppy at home, give him or her extra cuddles and pettings to show them how much you care.

Enough with the tears of sadness. How about some tears of happiness for a change? The mechanical cat suit Petey builds for his son is called the 80 Hexatron Droid. If you shorten that name to an acronym, it’s called 80-HD. Say that ten times fast and clap your hands like an audience at a golf tournament. Oh, and one of the buildings that comes to life? It’s an oatmeal factory called Holland Oats. Kids today might not understand that reference, but an older member of their family will. The jokes and puns in this story won’t make you hee-haw with laughter, but they’ll bring the world’s goofiest grin to your face.

If you like cute and cuddly stories with happy endings and golf clap humor, buy a copy of this graphic novel. Whether you have children of your own, you are a child, or you’re just a guy who loves sweetness, you’ll love what the pages have to offer. Don’t let anybody tell you you’re too old for this kind of material. What matters most is what you love, not what anybody else’s standards dictate. I love this story and that’s why it deserves a passing grade.

Gorgon Death Bitch

The clock on Steve Jones’s dashboard struck midnight while the rain pounded on his windshield like hammers. He clutched the steering wheel with a monstrous grip knowing what was waiting for him beyond that apartment door. He could faintly hear Kathryn Marsh’s radio blasting the coincidental tune “The Thunder Rolls” by All That Remains. How funny would it be if those lyrics about a cheating husband influenced her rage when Steve walked through the door? The last time he sniffed around, there wasn’t a trace of cologne because there was no other woman. But still…

Steve took one last swig of his Jack Daniels and let out an ogre burp before exiting the car for what would be the longest walk of his life. It was only one flight of stairs, but with the alcohol turning his brain into mush, he might as well have been walking on an endless treadmill. He limped up each individual step while maintaining a chokehold on the railing. He dared not peek down to know just how high off the ground he was. Instead he fixed his short brown hair and brushed off his gray hoodie and black jeans before slipping his key in the door and walking through the gates of hell.

“Where the fuck have you been?” belted Kathryn as she sprawled across the couch in her pink fleece robe while her King Charles puppy licked her hands. “Do you have any goddamn clue what time it is? Jesus, you smell like a brewery!”

“Kathryn, now’s not the time for this dramatic crap. I’ve had a long day and all I want to do is get in bed and forget all about it,” begged Steve while holding his hands up defensively.

He stumbled towards the bedroom slowly and lazily when Kathryn shoved the puppy off of her chest and leaped up to block her boyfriend’s path with her arms akimbo. “I’ve been waiting for you all day long. We were supposed to have dinner together and then go see a movie.” She took in the scent of booze with a scowl and said, “You obviously had other plans.”

“You know what?” slurred Steve. “I did have other plans. Plans that didn’t involve coming home to you every night and getting chewed out for stupid shit! Ever since we got engaged, it’s been the same: fighting, fighting, and more fucking fighting! So excuse me if I don’t feel like hanging out with a crazy chick who wants to keep me on a leash!”

Kathryn shoved Steve and sent him careening backwards. He would have landed on his ass if he didn’t have a firm grip on the back of the couch. Towering over him, she snapped, “We never do anything together anymore! I have to keep you on a short leash because I can’t trust you to be there for me! We’re supposed to get married soon and now you’re going to ruin it for us by drinking yourself to death! I’m sick of this shit, Steve!”

Amidst rapid-fire dog barking, Steve pulled himself to his feet, but not without tripping forward and almost landing face first into Kathryn’s chest. “Kitty-Kat, just shut the fuck up before you make my headache worse than it already is.”

Kathryn slapped Steve across the face and sent him rolling onto the couch. “How can you talk to me that way?!” she angrily sobbed. “The Steve I know would never have said that to anyone, let alone his own fiancé! You’ve changed! You’ve fucking changed! You can either check into rehab or I’ll drop this wedding like a bad habit!” When the dog continued to voice his opinion, his owner shouted, “Shut up, you stupid dog!” and earned a whine and a crouch from the little pooch.

Steve’s burning fury caused him to grab one of the couch pillows and thrash everything in sight with it, whether it be the coffee table, the TV, or Kathryn herself. He threw the soft weapon to the ground and shouted, “That’s it! I’ve had it with you! You want to end this relationship?! You want to throw it all away over stupid shit?! You got it! Good riddance! I’d be better off jacking it to internet porn than spending another night in the sack with you, you gorgon death bitch!”

Kathryn’s cheeks flushed into a brighter shade of pink than her bathrobe. Tears poured from her eyes with more intensity than the weather outside. “The Thunder Rolls” meant more to her now than it did when she was waiting for Steve to come home. She curled up into a ball on the floor and dampened her knees with sorrowful liquids. Steve wouldn’t be deterred by such a “pitiful” display as he crossed his arms and stood over her like a giant terrorizing villagers. He wasn’t staggering anymore despite the strong scent of alcohol blowing around the house like disgusting perfume.

“How could you?” Kathryn whimpered. “Why would you say that to me? Don’t you love me anymore? Does our marriage mean nothing to you?” Even with the biblical flood of tears, Steve hadn’t moved an inch. It was only when poisonous snakes grew from her scalp that he slowly staggered backwards and fell on his ass.

Now it was Steve’s turn to shed tears of misery and fear. “What the hell?” he asked as the dog’s barking picked up steam yet again.

The snakes in Kathryn’s hair slithered, spit venom, and chewed at the air. Her skin whitened to a pale shade of marble. When she nipped up and roared to the sky, neon red lights shot from her eyes and turned every fly whirling above her into little pebbles. Their corpses rolled across the ground like a game of craps. Steve had already turned around and covered his head so that he didn’t have to look into her eyes. Her demonic voice, on the other hand, was as clear as day. “You want a gorgon death bitch?! I’ll give you one, you little shit! You’re going to put a ring on me whether you want to or not!”

The shivering and cowering Steve opened his eyes ever so slightly to see Kathryn’s shadow creeping up on him. The snakes in her hair all made a lung for him and he rolled out of the way just in time. “Come on, Stevie-Boy!” the gorgon taunted. “I thought you liked putting poison in your body! You do enough of it at the bar, so why not here at home?”

The snakes lunged at him again and one of them managed to snag the back of his hoodie. Steve screamed in almighty terror as he ran behind the couch, leaving a piece of his clothing behind for the snakes to snack on. He tried to run towards the bedroom, but his drunken stupor made athleticism close to impossible. He tripped to the ground and crawled across the carpet like a soldier trying to avoid barbed wire. His heart thundered at a million beats per minute. Sweat and tears rained off of him like a dam after an earthquake. His body trembled and his bladder unleashed another rainstorm upon the ground. He even managed to feel pity for the barking dog behind him.

“I’m sorry, Kathryn! I’m so sorry! Just leave me the fuck alone!” Steve pleaded through a swamp of tears.

He felt a sharp presence clutch the back of his hair and yank him up to his knees. Those same claws mockingly massaged his shoulders while Kathryn whispered sweet nothings in his ears, her cacophony complimented by hissing snakes. “Oh, Steve. You’re so cute when you’re shaking in terror. I knew there was a reason my family loved you so much. They kept pushing me to marry you and now we can be happy together at last! Just you and me, nobody else! No beer, no drugs, no shitty music, just a lifetime of sweet symphonies! Doesn’t that sound like paradise, my darling?”

Even with his mind racing beyond the galaxy itself, Steve could make out the sound of the little puppy gnawing on Kathryn’s ankle, to which the gorgon growled and unleashed her savage stone stare upon the little guy. Steve and Kathryn yelled, “No!” together, which would be the only thing they had in common at this point in the argument.

Steve slowly turned his blistered face to see Kathryn on her knees cradling her stone statue puppy and sobbing once again. “Why?” she blubbered. “Why do I keep doing this to the ones I love? I didn’t mean to, damn it! I just want a happy life! I just want a husband and a puppy-duppy! Is that too much to ask for?”

With his eyebrows furrowed like lightning bolts, the thunder flashed in Steve’s eyes as he saw his opportunity to end this madness. He leapt to his feet, yanked the stone dog out of Kathryn’s hands, and before she could turn around, he smashed the petrified animal over her head multiple times. She screamed in bloody agony while her snakes hissed and nibbled at Steve’s arms and hands. He didn’t give a fuck about the poison or the blood.

A flash of red burned across his retinas as he smashed Kathryn’s head over and over again. The blood splatters and dead snakes were giving him a funny feeling in his wet pants. His eyes bulged and so did his underwear. He laughed like a psychopath as he bathed in the sweet venom of his now dying fiancé. It felt as warm and relaxing to his aching body as a Jacuzzi. He hammered her again and again until the stone dog spilt in two and Kathryn’s head was a pool of shattered bones and splattered brains. For the first time in this relationship, Steve could breathe easy, but he did so with a deep, raspy throat.

His moment of sweet nirvana was interrupted by the sound of his apartment door being kicked down and police officers yelling, “What the hell?!”

Steve’s bulging eyes and psychotic demeanor faded into soberness when he peeked up at the cops. His heart sank to his feet when he saw that Kathryn’s gorgon appearance was no more and the puppy’s stone body was a bloody heap. Beyond the rancid smell of blood and guts, Steve could still identify the alcohol on his own breath and clothes. Goddamn, that was some strong booze.

The officers at the door gazed at Steve with horrified shock and arms akimbo. All Steve could do was shrug his shoulders and say, “It’s not what it looks like.”

Dog Fucker

CHORUS 1

When you kill a human being, it drives me mad

When you kill an animal, it’s twice as bad

Dog fucker!

Dog fucker!

VERSE 1

A sodomite with a bully’s might

You came to kill in the dead of night

Rape and torture are your tools of trade

Cutting your victims with an iron blade

Your latest kill was a sexual thrill

Man’s best friend now lies down still

The blood on your dick is so damn sick

Now the murder charge is going to stick

CHORUS 2

When you kill a human being, it’s a lifelong curse

When you kill an animal, it’s ten times worse

Dog fucker!

Dog fucker!

VERSE 2

Now you find yourself in a tight corner

Locked up in a cage by the judge’s order

Your new cell mate has a bone to pick

It’s in his pants and it’s called his dick

Knowing the rape of the innocent puppy

Is vicious and violent, not soft and loving

Pornographic passion, metal bunk thrashing

It’s Marvel Comics and Hulk is smashing

CHORUS 3

Murdering a human is a mortal sin

Murdering a dog makes you the devil’s kin

Dog fucker!

Dog fucker!

VERSE 3

Revenge is a fantasy played out in cinema

It’s eating us alive and damn near killing us

But goddamn, it’s so easy to get pissed

Punishment is more than a slap on the wrist

I tried to be nice, friendly, and forgiving

But you’ve stolen that dog from the living

I’ve got furry friends chilling on my couch

Go near them and you’ll be screaming “Ouch!”

LULLABY ENDING

Lullaby and goodnight

You know it’s not right

Close your eyes and start to smile

You’ll be going away for a while

When the dawn lights the sky

You can hear your victims cry

Start your day with a smile

No one believes your guile

Shadow-Pie

For Lance Bradley, driving out to the Ophidian Valley Desert was the longest journey he had ever embarked on. It had nothing to do with how much gas his white Honda used to get there. It had everything to do with his mind racing even faster than his vehicle. With his father’s ashes in a golden urn in the back seat, why wouldn’t his mind be racing at a hundred miles per hour. His pale face hadn’t seen a smile since the day his father passed. His pony tailed brown hair was a disheveled mess. His black rimmed glasses did a piss poor job of blurring out the tears forming in his eyes.

It was a thirty minute drive to the desert with a lifetime of sorrowful thoughts and heartache to go with it. When he parked by the side of the road, he shook and staggered his way to the back seat to get his father’s ashes. Stepping out into the desert sand was even more of a chore for his aching body. Who knew depression could hurt so badly in more places than just the mind. After a while of dragging his heavy feet, Lance finally dropped to his knees and let the urn crash onto the ground, though the soft sand kept the golden container from breaking. The tears were coming much more rapidly and his face was turning beet red.

“You must be Lance Bradley,” said a sagely voice. The grieving son picked his burdensome head up and saw that an elderly black dog with hints of gray fur and an Indian head dress was the source of that voice. Lance had the urge to go over and give her endless belly rubs and ear scratches. Hearing her actually form words with her dog muzzle made him reconsider. This wasn’t an ordinary animal. This was the shaman of the Ophidian Valley Desert, Shadow-Pie.

The sagely dog went on to say, “My condolences for your loss, Mr. Bradley. I’m sure he was very special to you.” The pawl bearer cringed and shivered as he stood up with the golden urn in hand. Shadow tilted her head to the side and asked, “Did I say something offensive?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just that…well…I wasn’t expecting a dog to carry out this ritual. No offense,” said Lance without making eye contact with Shadow.

“None taken, my child. I get that kind of reaction no matter who comes out here. That golden urn of yours. Bring it here so that I may perform the ritual. I take it you don’t want to spend the whole day out here. Let’s get this done so that you can go home and rest,” suggested Shadow.

Lance stumbled over to the talking dog with the urn clutched to his chest like a child’s teddy bear. Something was bothering him other than the fact that his father was dead. Not even a wise being like Shadow could make out what it was. The pawl bearer set the urn down in front of the sweet-hearted beast and unscrewed the lid.

“Are you absolutely sure you’re okay, Mr. Bradley? Is it just grief from the loss of your father or is it something else?” asked Shadow.

An agitated Lance said, “I told you, Shadow, everything is fine!”

The elderly dog barked at her charge and said in a stern voice, “That’s not the way you talk to a shaman, young man. I was merely trying to figure out if everything was okay. You don’t need to take your aggression out on an animal spirit like me!”

Lance stuffed his hands in his tan khaki pockets, looked down at his feet sheepishly, and said, “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.”

“If it means so much to you, then we can discuss this later. Until then, I have a ritual to perform. Stand as far back as you can, because the air is about to get dusty. Wouldn’t want a fine young man like you to have a sore throat,” said Shadow.

After the grieving son stepped backwards as he was told, Shadow stuck her snout into the urn and breathed in the ashes deep within her system. A few more deep breaths later and the ritual was underway, which consisted of her blowing the ashes out into the desert in the form of a high speed wind. The black cloud eventually turned green. The high winds became even more powerful. Spiritual chanting could be heard from Shadow’s throat as she simultaneously blew the ashes.

The green smoke began to form a dark circle around Shadow and Lance, making the latter of the two shiver and dart his eyes from side to side. If he wasn’t scared before, he was now that the shaman dog’s eyes were dark red and her currently razor sharp teeth were trembling in anger.

Lance tried to talk down the normally friendly dog by saying, “Good girl. She’s a good girl. Would you like a belly rub?” The possessed Shadow barked angrily at her charge and growled at him with white spittle running down her jowls. “Okay, um…how about some beef jerky! I have a whole bag of it in my car!”

The diplomacy of the dead man’s son was unconvincing to the ferocious beast as she leapt through the air and landed on Lance’s chest, pinning him down and barking relentlessly in his screaming face. Lance stopped screaming for a moment when Shadow spoke to him in his father’s gruff voice: “It’s about time you dragged me out here, little boy. There’s nobody around here to save you this time. No cops. No social workers. Not even your clueless mother! I’m going to enjoy every single bit of this torture I have planned for you. The first thing I’m going to do is bite off each of your little fingers one at a time!”

As Shadow slowly went for the first bite, Lance’s pants-pissing fear was replaced with a berserker’s courage. “Screw you, Dad!” he yelled as he landed a palm strike on the possessed dog’s nose. Shadow stumbled backwards long enough for Lance to stand up and put his dukes up.

But this wasn’t going to be an epic fight to the death. A dog’s nose was the most sensitive part of the beast’s body. Instead of charging at the dead man’s son with bloodlust, Shadow began to suck in air quickly before sneezing a hurricane of green spiritual energy. Lance was blown backwards into his car, where the back of his head bounced off of the hood and knocked him temporarily unconscious. As his vision was going black, all he could see was the green energy of his dead father cursing at him with venom in his voice.

It felt like an entire year had passed since this incident took place, but only because Lance Bradley had a monstrous headache as he awakened from his TKO at the hands of Shadow. The sky was a dark blue and the golden sun was setting underneath the horizon. Just exactly how much time did pass? Lance didn’t care. He rubbed the back of his sore head as he was coming around. He had a little bit of a bump there, but nothing more.

Shadow seemed a bit wobbly herself as she waddled over to her client, who sat against his car door with his butt on the desert ground. Shadow also seemed a little upset with Lance as she stared into his eyes with a little bit of a furrow in her brows. “Is there something you’d like to tell me, Mr. Bradley? Is there a reason why the spirit of your ‘loving’ father caused me to nearly kill both of us? I want answers, Lance. I want them now!”

“I can’t talk about it, Shadow. I just can’t,” said a whimpering Lance.

“Listen to me, son,” said the sagely dog. “You came all the way out to this desert for a reason. Someone obviously sent you out here to carry out your father’s final wishes. But your father’s final wishes weren’t necessarily yours, were they, Lance? You don’t have to give me all the details of your father’s sins, but maybe a surface-level description would satisfy me. I need to know why I transformed into that horrible beast.”

A teary silence befell Lance before he finally mustered up the strength to say, “I was…I was…”

“You were what? Don’t run away from your past, my dear. Face it head on and create a better future. You were almost denied that future when I inhaled your father’s spirit. Are you going to let him do this to you from beyond the grave?” said Shadow.

After taking a few deep breaths, Lance Bradley spilled the beans on his father’s transgressions. “I was only eight years old. You don’t make an eight year old do those things. You don’t make him taste those tastes. You don’t make him feel embarrassed like that. You don’t touch your own son that way!” The last sentence was shouted with all of Lance’s pent up frustrations. The tears were pouring like rain at this point.

“Do you feel that?” asked Shadow. “Inside each of those tears is the spiritual energy of your past agony. They’ve stayed within you for so long. You were afraid to let them out for fear of reliving those days. I’m here to tell you that you don’t have to live those days anymore, my son. The truth set you free. You set your father’s soul free. And I am right here beside you. I always will be. Dogs like me were put on this earth to give comfort to those who need it. I am giving all of my comfort to you. Keep those floodgates open and learn to love again.”

Shadow nuzzled her soft head against Lance’s chest while the sobbing son wrapped his trembling arms around his new doggie. “Your fur is so soft. I could pet you all day long. Is it okay if I pet you?” asked Lance.

“You don’t have to ask me, my child. You can pet me for as long as you want to. Take your time and don’t let up until you’re ready to hit the road again,” said the loving Shadow-Pie.

The petting session, the flowing tears, and the heartache of it all lasted for hours that night. The sun had gone to sleep for the day and the full moon glowed brightly for the sagely animal and her new owner Lance. Peace and tranquility had come to Ophidian Valley once more.

"Spunky and the Wizard's Chair" by Ashley and Kyra Uzzell

BOOK TITLE: Spunky and the Wizard’s Chair
AUTHORS: Ashley Uzzell and Kyra Uzzell
YEAR: 2015
GENRE: Fiction
SUBGENRE: Children’s Animal Fantasy
GRADE: Pass


Spunky is an ordinary house cat who enjoys the love and attention that his wizard master brings him. One fateful day, the wizard brings home a splintered wooden chair that is believed to have magical powers. Spunky is ordered to stay away from it, but he defies the wizard and the chair takes the little fluff-pumpkin to a strange new world ruled by other cats. Spunky is scared of his new surroundings and wants to go home. But when the beautiful princess of this kitty world is abducted by dogs, little Spunky isn’t going to let it slide that easily!

One of the many things that makes this book special is the fact that it was written by a mother and her eight-year-old daughter. Alone, their imaginations are wild and colorful. Together, they can put out a polished, cute, cuddly story about magic and purr-babies. Ashley and Kyra working together as a team to make this wonderful kid’s book brings them closer together as a family. No matter what obstacles life puts in front of them, they will always have this special book to look back upon and love every minute of. Family bonding is always important to living a healthy and happy life; never underestimate the power of love.

And then there’s the obvious elephant in the room (or rather the puppies and kitties), the book’s cuteness factor. If you’re writing a book about house pets, you’d better make it as cute and sweet as humanly possible. Ashley and Kyra did just that with their descriptions of each animal character from their bushy tails to their candy-colored fur to (my personal favorite) the princess’s “bell-like voice”. I could learn a lot from this style of writing, because it’s charming without being overly sappy. Whenever I write an animal story, I use a lot of lovey-dovey language and I can see how that would be a turn-off to my readers. So thank you, Ashley and Kyra, for teaching me a valuable lesson in writing animal fantasy fiction!

This book is the very definition of what a kid’s story should have: colorful visuals, a steady reading pace, a loving plot, and not a single ounce of mature content. I enjoyed this book so much that I plan on giving it to one of my nieces as a Christmas present this year. The book is a fun read for all ages, so if I was to give it to my eleven year old niece Reina, she probably wouldn’t feel insulted by it. I have another niece named Jayla who is five years old and she would probably love this book to pieces. So many nieces, so many choices. No matter who I choose, it will be a worthy use of my money since it’s such a lovable read. I’m purring just thinking about it!

Ashley Uzzell is already an established writer under another penname and has produced some of my favorite e-books ever written. Her future is no doubt a bright one no matter how many obstacles she has to go through in life. Kyra especially has a bright future ahead of her because she’s only eight years old and has already shown that she’s capable of putting together an awesome story. If the amount of potential this writing family had could be harnessed into green energy, the world could leave its lights on until the end of time. I give this story a passing grade and I give both authors a digital hug!

"Wish You Were Here" by Rita Mae Brown

BOOK TITLE: Wish You Were Here: A Mrs. Murphy Mystery
AUTHOR: Rita Mae Brown & Sneaky Pie Brown
YEAR: 1990
GENRE: Fiction
SUBGENRE: Cozy Mystery
GRADE: Mixed


In the teeny tiny town of Crozet, Virginia, everybody knows and trusts each other, which is what makes the murders of several townsfolk easy for the killer to cover up. It could literally be anyone. Aside from the local police, on the case is Mary Minor “Harry” Haristeen, a divorcee mail sorter with a tiger kitty named Mrs. Murphy and a Welsh Corgi named Tee Tucker. Harry believes she’s getting closer to the truth behind the murders, but not nearly as close as her own pets, who have more sense than most humans do.

Speaking of that last sentence, that’s actually one of the things that makes this book so enjoyable. In between sniffing out clues and helping their nearly brain dead owner, Mrs. Murphy and Tucker have conversations with the animals about how dumb humans are and many of the things they say are true. Humans can advance technology to its absolute limit, but they still kill each other over stupid things, get married to the wrong people, spend money they don’t have on things they don’t need, the list is as endless as time itself. I wouldn’t mind having these little cuties on an episode of Real Time with Bill Maher. Hell, they make more sense than pretty much every whacko who sits at that panel.

Aside from being dead on in their assessments of humans, Mrs. Murphy, Tucker, and company are just so darn cute! They roll over, play with paper, do acrobatics, and everything else that makes animals so much fun to own. Yes, they occasionally break lamps and rip up necessary papers, but that doesn’t make the little critters any less cute. I wouldn’t mind having Mrs. Murphy on my lap purring her head off while I feed her Temptations Kitty Treats. Aww!!

But just like with anything I give a mixed grade (or three stars) to, there are some minor complaints I need to deal with. I realize this book was published in 1990 and it’s not Rita Mae Brown’s fault she was born in the generation she was. But her age shows in this novel. The gossip among the women, the old-time traditions, the social elite statuses, even the character’s names make the book hard for younger readers to relate to. Is Haristeen even a real last name? I’m not sure, because as I type it out on my computer, there’s a squiggly red line underneath. And Hogendobber? Isn’t that the name of an ice cream brand? And who in the hell names their smoking hot daughter BoomBoom? I realize the novel is set in a small town, but this is taking small town stereotypes to an entirely different level.

Despite its minor faults, this is actually an enjoyable read. The mystery is well-constructed and when you eventually find out the whos, whys, and hows of it all, it will take you by surprise. I had a hard time piecing everything together at first, but it all made sense at the very end. If you like animal cuties or if you just want a good murder mystery, check out this book. And by the way, if you get a postcard in your mailbox with a tombstone on it that says, “Wish you were here”, you’d better run like hell!

"The George Carlin Letters" by Sally Wade

After watching George Carlin perform on one of his crazy HBO specials, would you have guessed that he was a loving family man who constantly wrote love notes to his second wife Sally Wade? Take your time in digesting this information. Cycle through all of the times he said that he enjoys car crashes and hurricanes before picking up a copy of “The George Carlin Letters” by Sally Wade. The book is described as a romantic comedy and justifiably so. Throughout the love notes that George wrote to his wife is one with a drawing of a bald woman that said, “If you shaved your head I would still love you (note the hard nipples)”. That’s one of my favorites and that’s just getting to the back cover. Other love notes include references that Sally and George are from Jupiter since their romance transcends earth’s boundaries and rules. Notice how he didn’t say Saturn, because people from Saturn are assholes. Then again, I’d be an asshole too if I had a bunch of space junk circling my planet. Martians and Venusians are alright, though. In fact, there’s a slim chance that Sally and George’s longtime doggy-wog Spot might be a Venusian. There are tons of references to Spot throughout the book. And why not? He’s such a little cutie pie! Plus, that’s all life ever was to George: a series of dogs. Does any of this sound giggly and romantic to you? It should. It’s a heartwarming love story that makes you glad that it’s nonfiction. Sally even describes being married to George as the best ten years of her life. But all good things must come to an end eventually. In 2008, two days before George and Sally’s tenth anniversary, George passed away and left the world a darker place than it already was. Sally could have made this near-end of the book into a somber funeral if she wanted to. But instead, she maintained the giggly spirit of the book and made references to George making contact with her from the other side alongside Spot, who also died during the marriage. Sally says that George still visits her whenever she takes a shower. Not just because she needs reassurance, but also because she happens to be naked. That’s our George! We’re all going to miss him dearly. Even though he said otherwise during his 2008 HBO special It’s Bad For Ya, he probably is smiling down from heaven. He’s probably not running the heavenly branch of the Make-a-Wish Foundation, so don’t count on any favors. If you want true romance, don’t buy a cheesy Harlequin book. Buy “The George Carlin Letters” by Sally Wade!

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“I’ve got an idea for an abortion pill that works only half the time. It’s called Baby Maybe!”

-George Carlin-

"Superman For the Animals" by Mark Millar

If the thought of cute, cuddly, fuzzy animal babies being brutalized disgusts you, then “Superman For the Animals” will either be one of two things for you. It will either be a call to arms against animal cruelty or a series of brutal images to shy away from and save for another reader. Either way, this comic book will disturb you. You probably don’t even have to be an animal person to be disturbed by the disgusting shit that happens to these defenseless critters. The main character, a shy teenager, hangs out with a bunch of kids led by a sociopath who tortures animals just for fun. This leader of the pack shoots a dog in the leg, kicks pigeons out of the way, suffocates a goldfish, and would have dumped a cat off of a highway bridge if it hadn’t been for Superman’s intervention. Despite being the title character in this story, Superman is not the main hero as one would expect him to be. It’s the shy kid who joins the group that ends up being the most productive hero. He eventually has to learn to stand up for these animals and not rely on superheroes to do it for him. Standing up to your enemies is hard enough. Standing up to people you consider your friends is even worse. If it can be done, though, the person will be stronger for it. One way or another, the animal torturing teenager needs to be stopped. Surely, you would like to see some justice done toward this sociopathic kid, right? Don’t get your hopes up to high. The worst that happens to him is that he’s forced to see a therapist to sort out his fucked up mind. As an animal lover, I believe this is not enough. That kid needs to be locked up in prison for the rest of his fucking life. If he’s willing to do this to cute, cuddly critters, imagine what he’ll do to humans if given the opportunity. That’s normally the first step for serial killers: they start off with animals and slowly progress to killing humans. If you’re not going to read this comic for the harsh justice that needs to be served, you can at least read it to see the main character grow into a respectable human being. In order to redeem himself for hanging out with an animal torturer for this long, he goes to a pet shelter and volunteers his time there. Superman wasn’t going to make this choice for him, but he did steer him in the right direction. Sometimes all we need is a little push.

　

***LYRICS OF THE DAY***

“I loved you in the sunshine. You chase the moon with a spear. Tardy afternoons in utopia. Kiss an ugly turtle and make it cry. Sever the head of cornucopia. We rape the earth and don’t know why it strikes. Do you believe in stormy weather? Hurricanes play musical chairs with homes and chattels. The whirling dervish tornados reek all disaster. See-saw tsunamis, give and take, what’s the matter?”

-Serj Tankian singing “Cornucopia”-

"I Am Puppy, Hear Me Yap" by Valerie Shaff (photos) and Roy Blount, Jr. (text)

Remember how during my review of “All Cats Have Asperger Syndrome” I said that a blog about fast reads wouldn’t be complete without picture books? The same is true now that I’m talking about “I Am Puppy, Hear Me Yap”. Each page consists of a cute and cuddly picture of a puppy-duppy along with an equally cute and cuddly poem on the opposite page. These poems and pictures can be about anything from chewing shoes to playing in the dirt to peeing on the bed to pretty much anything man’s best friend is famous for. The poems are clever with their joyful rhymes and childlike antics. But come on, we know why you’re really reading this book: for the sweet and lovable puppy-duppies! You want to see them roll over before you reach through the page and give them a much-needed belly rub! Puppies always seem to like a good petting whether it’s on their bellies, on their butts, behind their ears, or on their saggy jowls. Not only will you want to pet all of the puppies in this book, but you’ll want to take them all home with you. Little baskets of puppies all over the house just rolling around and being animal kids. The only thing these puppies don’t come with is purring muscles in their throats. Purring puppies? Aww! That would be a cuteness overload, as my friends on DeviantART might say. As I write this blog entry, I keep asking myself, what more could I say about this book that I haven’t already? It doesn’t have any plot, obviously. The poems wouldn’t make sense without their respective pictures next to them. I guess the only thing left to say is, go out and buy a copy of this wonderful picture book. You may brush through it in a matter of quick minutes, but as long as you’re in the mood for cuteness, you can read it as many times as you want. Maybe one day the author and photographer will make a calendar out of these wonderful puppy-duppy pictures. Imagine flipping to February and seeing a floppy-eared wiener dog staring you in the face with pretty brown eyes. Wouldn’t that just melt your heart like an ice cream cone? If you didn’t have a valentine by the time February rolled around, then maybe the floppy-eared buddy would be there to comfort you. I’d tell you more, but you might actually die by cuteness, another phrase my DA friends love to use. Hehe!
　

***JOKE OF THE DAY***

Two guys are walking down the street and they see a dog thoroughly licking himself. One of the guys says, “Man, I wish I could do that!” The other guy says, “Shouldn’t you pet him first?”

"Oink" by Matt Whyman

If you thought big ol’ piggy pies were cute and cuddly, try having mini-pigs! Little fun size babies you can hold in the palm of your hand! Actually, as author Matt Whyman will tell you, his two latest runts, Butch and Roxy, are literally and figuratively a handful. Matt already has four children, a wife, a cat, some chickens, and a puppy-duppy. What the hell, why not throw two little oinker babies into the mix? Of all the animals Matt Whyman has, including the humans, Butch and Roxy were easily the rowdiest of the bunch and therefore gave him the most fits. Want to know all the things mini-oinkers are capable of? How about leaving a warm yellow puddle of piss over Matt’s feet while he’s trying to write children’s stories? Or maybe they can chew on the controller and wires for his Playstation One. Or if you really want a reason to get the blood boiling, how about ripping up the neighbor’s yard during an attempted robbery? The thing is, the piggy pies actually did more damage than the actual burglars. And the neighbor? He’s never in a good mood, so one could only imagine the kind of trouble Matt would be in once he came home. Despite all of these incidents that would normally give Matt Whyman a heart attack, he goes through a progression throughout the memoir where he learns to enjoy the controlled chaos and that all members of his family keep the unit together. In other words, “Oink” is every bit as heartwarming as it is silly and giggly. It actually reads like a novel and follows the formula very well despite the fact that it’s clearly nonfiction. When you read through it, you have no reason to believe that his storybook ending could be anything but nonfiction. He’s not just a celebrity who writes one book about his life with the help of a ghostwriter. Matt Whyman is a veteran author. He knows exactly what he’s doing when he puts pen to paper. He controls the pace, he writes in a giggly tone, and he’s got a great vocabulary. If those three things aren’t enough reason to buy this book, then at least buy it for the cute and cuddly mini-oinkers! AWW!!

　

***COMEDIC QUOTE OF THE DAY***

“Sir, I don’t think ‘piss like a dog’ is a real expression. It’s ‘piss like a racehorse‘. How exactly do you piss like a dog? Do you lift one leg and do it over a fire hydrant?”

-Brad Loekle-