I was not scheduled to write until next week, but this is an emergency. I need your help right this minute. If you have read my work before, you know that I am a secret agent or Designed Operational Guard. My work here in this house is very important. I am not a mere yippie white dog, as Andre would have you believe. I am a high-ranking member of the espionage community. Just like James Bond and Inspector Gadget, I have my tools of the trade. One of those tools was stolen from me.
You have all probably noticed my beautiful necklace in my photos. While I am very much into fashion, this necklace is not just your average bling. It contains my secret agent identification and credentials. Take a good look at this picture, and make sure you have not seen this essential apparatus in any of your local pawnshops or pet stores.
As you can plainly see, it has my name on it. What you cannot see is the microchip inside of the charm. It contains data that would be useful to the enemy agents: Communist Asshole Torturers, or C.A.Ts. I have three of them in my home. While it is possible one of them took it, I think the swiping more likely occurred at the beauty shop.
I had to go tend to my grooming last week. A shampoo, cut, and style were very much needed. When you work as hard as I do to protect your humans, it is easy to forget to keep up your own appearance. As per protocol, my necklace was removed before my bath. That was the last time I saw it. This means one of two things happened:
A C.A.T at the beauty shop stole my necklace and has already scanned it, shared the data, and is planning world domination RIGHT NOW.
Father neglected to take it from the top of my carrier and put it back around my neck after he picked me up from the spa.
Until my identification is found, you should all consider yourselves to be at risk for a C.A.T invasion. Please keep a squirt bottle and a large dog near you at all times. Do not open a can of tuna or purchase any catnip until I tell you it is safe to do so. As a precaution, I have already begun interrogating the cats in my home. Please watch this short video to observe my top secret technique.
Update: Mother found my necklace clipped to the handle of my carrier in the garage. My apologies to Andre. Please carry on, now.
I noticed something odd today. Mother, father, and the boy slept until after the sun was bright. I found this unusual because this is the third day in a row that this has happened, and the decorated tree is not in the living room. By my toe calculations, the family gets up before the sun and is in a hurry to leave the house without me and the other furry creatures for five days. Then, there are two days where there is a lot of noise in the yard and the humans nap on couches while humans chase balls around on the large light square.
I happened to hear Mother tell the boy that it was “Labor Day,” which meant he didn’t have to go to school and they didn’t have to go to work. From the sounds of it, humans get a day off on Labor Day unless they do any work involving food because Mother talked about getting some Chinese food. So, they must be working at the Chinese restaurant. Chinese food frightens me because of something I read on Facebook. I won’t go into details here.
I don’t cook food, but I also can’t take the day off since I must protect the family. If you have read my blog you know that I am a canine secret agent. So, I must continue my duties, as the family will no doubt do more foolish things since they will have their guard down. Father has even been known to set fire to a metal square outside and place perfectly good meat on it. This is highly dangerous and I bark at him when he does it. The man could burn his paws off.
Since Sophie is outside with Father a lot, and since she has been given the gift of size to make up for her lack of intelligence, I will continue to train her as my backup guard. I’ve been working with her since she was a puppy. Here is a training film from one of our first sessions.
As you can see, my work will never end. Thanks to Mother for narrating the film for me. She got my thoughts exactly correct. You will all be happy to know that Sophie does at least use the restroom in the correct place now. She is still far from being a proper dog. Where did they find her?
Well, I’m off to lick the kitchen floor in hopes of finding a morsel of dropped potato salad, or maybe even a forgotten chunk of hot dog. As usual, I have received nothing but my standard issue dog food. Some holiday!
Help me. I saw my Uncle Andre and Aunt Sophie use their toes to type to you on this light box, and I hope you will read my story, too. The human they call mother is actually my grandmother. The boy is my father; he adopted me when he was still short and playful, and I was a puppy.
I’ve been a member of this family for ten years, and I’ve always loved it until now. There’s no nice way to say it. Look at what grandmother told the beauty shop lady to do to my hair.
This is ridiculous. I do like my hair short so it doesn’t get tangled when I hump Uncle Andre AKA the Kitty, or play with Aunt Sophie, but I don’t want to look like a boy, or worse yet a Chihuahua. Not that there is anything wrong with Chihuahuas, aside from them looking like rats. There. I said it.
I don’t deserve this treatment. I do a lot for this family. I bark whenever the wind blows to alert my family to danger. I also lick everyone because they don’t clean themselves good enough. I help with litter box cleaning by eating tasty nuggets.
I helped to train Aunt Sophie when she first came to live with us.
Humans out there, if you are reading this, please come and help me. If you can do weave and have some Maltese fur, even better. My father will pay you to fix my hair. He keeps looking at me, and shaking his head, and saying, “Lola, honey, no!” I feel the same way.