Or so I thought. Apparently my dog is part of a larger conspiracy to overthrow human government as we know it, one bent on raising a master race of canine autocrats to the highest seats of power in the land. Should we try to resume our place in those lofty seats, we will undoubtedly be firmly told we're not allowed on the furniture, hit in the head with a rolled up newspaper, and perhaps menaced with a squirt bottle.
My thanks to Oghrim for the tip regarding ObeythePureBreed, a site which is desperately attempting to uncover this budding coup d'etat before it's too late. The brave souls there have smuggled certain sensitive drafts of insidious doggy propaganda to prove their point, propaganda I feel compelled to share with you in a desperate gesture of resistance. May God have mercy on us all, for our canine overlords shall not.
And most sinister of all:
4 comments:
well, i've managed to be-gift his highness with a cigar and a platypus girlfriend, so perhaps i will be spared a be-heading???
Indeed, the overlord has always been partial to you, Miss Carousel. Truth be told, you may even be offered a modest position in his government. How would you feel about speechwriting for a pug?
when i think of writing a speech for the overlord, the first thing that comes into my head is the schnarbeling sounds he makes when i would keep tapping him on the back of the head, and he would whip his face around wildly and try (fruitlessly) to lick my hand. ah, the eloquence....
all hail hurley!
It is my firm belief that all world leaders should be judged solely by their ability to run headlong into solid objects and emerge unscathed. You know who was king at that? Churchill. He left melon-sized dents all over his Iron Curtain.
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