Dear doggie ate a bone at obedience school, bitterly. Unfortunately this would not be for long; he would be off for more training again. Training sucked; other dogs liked to mount him despite him being male, and the trainer constantly shouted alot at them. That, and training hours were long with only one break inbetween on Tuesday and Thursday; it seriously made this one dog bark alot.
Of course, he wasn't alone; other dogs like to bark too about similar things. When one dog barks, the rest do, with reason or rhymeless. So he goes back whining to his owner, who had been watching him all the while. The owner, looking at the dog suffer through all those sessions on Tuesday, ravenously eating his share of dog food, and going off again for more training, felt very sad.
Then again, there were other sad dogs. And the obedience school, after charging exhorbitant fees in the name of building more doggy-loving facilities, they decide to change the schedule around a bit to make doggies in the school happier. One particular dog yipped his way, ran straight off to the front row to see the new schedules. Not that he could get the words. But what does it matter? If it looks the same, it has to be the same.
It wasn't the same for Friday and Monday. Wednesday seemed the same, no one minded that.
After five minutes did the dog realize that there had actually been a change on Tuesday and Thursday: The funny symbols in the little boxes had changed around. The very position of the white little box he ever so loved remained, though. And the dog knew what it meant.
The dog ran back to its owner, moaning and whining, and bit the owner's jeans, trying to drag him somewhere. The owner, confused, followed it.
When the owner reached the schedule, he read it. Indeed, little had changed after all. They went back home.
The dog, as a dog, continued to whine. And jumped onto his owner and whined some more while the owner was blogging (Or dlogging as Sunday Lifestyle dearly puts it). 'course, the dog can't do much but press random keys, so the owner translated for him. And he did the job a bit too well.
The dog went through even more hell for whining. Forced to sing by himself in front of other dogs and respective owners, the dog felt humiliated. He was pitied by others, but certainly not the teachers. To them, lil' doggie hated the school: its exhorbitant pricings to let the dogs see pwetty fountains, the stress that trainers give him, and especially Tuesdays and Thursdays. It was true, of course, but they got that point across to the dog. A little. Too. Well.
The owner had since removed the entry because the obedience school does all things professionally and dlogs just aren't professional. Of course, defamation lawsuits are professional too, but that's beside the point.
The dog bit on the bone again, as bitter as ever. Except this time the bone stays in the dog's mouth since he likes it so much. Besides, it keeps him from whining in school.
-----------------------------------------------------
If any this is absolute evidence that I am now completely incapable of writing. Curse my lack of story-writing. >_>
No comments:
Post a Comment