Monday, December 28, 2009

Zis is Ze Story

It is me, ze Boz, I am writing to you of my rescue.


Ze woman she is, how you say, sleeping and I have taken over her what you call dis ding, a blogz. You see I must tell you my story and warn you of ze terrorist zat are out zere.




I was born one of many puppies to my mater. My mater she was a bitch and my papa, I do not know. The terrorist would often just call me zat little bastard. Zey say my papa may have been a Bichon or a poodle, no one know for sure. I was born into captivity. Jess into a life of being held prisoner. One day ze terrorist put many of us into a sleep and zen zey stuffs us into holes in a truck. We zen went for a very long drive. Ze next ding I know we are into a new land. Ze terrorist take us to a place wid many of my kind. A woman she pay and puts us into windows. I am jess a puppy but I know zis is not ze life for me.

photo curtesy of Allcreatures.org

One day a person comes into my window and takes me. I have never lived outsize ze cage. I have only been in prison since day I born. Dis person takes me to his home. He let me run around ze house. I do what puppies do. I chew on ze walking feet covers, how you say shoes. I play wid ze paper roller things in ze toilet. I do not know what ze outsize is about, so I poop in ze floor next to ze toilet. I see ze man poop in ze toilet, I think I am safe. Then ze man starts to beat me. He beat for relieving myself. He beat me for chewing, he scream at me for everyzing. I cower and submit not so much because I am afraid but because he is ze alpha. Zer on many utter puppies in ze man’s home. They do not wish to play zey only wish to take my food. I get very ill and can not conjure up the strength to play. I am still a prisoner.

photo curtesy of carekorea.files


I watch ze man as he comes and goes. He opens ze door and goes outsize. I wait and watch. I am quick, much quicker zen ze man. He goes out his door and I dash out and hize. He does not look for me too much. He has many utters to tend to and goes back insize. Zat is when I sneak away. I wonzer ze streets and forage for food. I am hiding in ze bushes when a whole group of chemineau or as you say hoe-ze-beaux approach me. Zey take me in and I wonzer ze streets wid zem. We together protect and keep each other company. There is Lucky who is an injured terrier. He has been hit by a car and has only trios’ limbs zat work. We help him to find food and to hize from ze terrorist who look for us constantly. It is tiring being on ze lamb.


Zen one day it happens. Ze terrorist find Lucky, he can not get away. I like Lucky and I run forward to protest them taking him. I snarl and growl but ze man in ze uniform scoops me into a noose and sticks me back into prison. I yell and scream to ze utters to run away. Lucky and I together we make such a ruckus they squirt us wid ze water. Zey take us to a building with others like us. It is full of chemineau who are doing time. Each tells me their story often much like my own. Zen zere are ze stories zat break my heart. Zey are ze ones who talk of a good life, one which food is abundant and zey have a nice soft bed to sleep in. Zen one day their people leave and never come back. The furniture is gone, the dishes which they lick clean disappear and zey are left alone in a house to starve. Zey do not understand why dis happened. Butch a rather feminine bulldog tells of his people and sobs when he talks of zem leaving him behind. He watched out the window as the car pulled away. He blames himself. He thinks it is because he had too much flatulence. He drove his people away with his bad tummy. Then there was Scotch the Wiemerimer who survived by eating the siding from the house. He is very sick now and does not think he will live out his sentence.


The people in this prison talk about who is going to go next. They come into our cells and remove us one by one and we are never seen again. I am sure they are executing them. They want us to talk and tell where the rest of the resistance is hiding. I will never tell. I have a sworn allegiance to the chemineau. Then a group of ladies come in and begin putting us into very small crates. They pack us into them and put us into the back of a car. I am positive this is it for me. I am coughing more regular now and have not eaten in days. I tell Scotch zat we must be going to ze fire squad. I bid adieu to my copain. Ze women zey remove me from ze cage where a physician is standing by. He puts me into a zeep sleep and zen I know I am fin’.



I wake up in ze clinque. I am how you say, groggy. I look around and zen I look down. Zey have maimed me. I am missing my manly parts. What kind of monsters are zese women? I see Lucky in a cell across from me. I call to him, he looks up at me with his big brown eyes and he tells me zey have removed his front leg. He slips back into a deep sleep as I peer around ze room at my copains in ze cells. Scotch is waking when I call to him he calls back. He too has had his manly parts removed. Zey can cut off what zey want but I will never give up the where abouts of ze reistance. Zey are ruthless zese monsters, first cut of ze manz coquilles, or as you say ballz, zen his feets, what is next ze tongue? I can not help myself; I fall back into a deep sleep. When I wake I am no longer in ze clinque. I am in a home. I am still in a cell but zere are people forcing drugs into me and zey are cooing to me. I am not fooled, zey are part of ze terrorist, I lay in my cell and wait for ze moment when I can escape once again.

Ze next ting I know I am again placed in a cell wiz trios utters. Zey are Spanish and are what you call Cheewhaawees. We are outside and zere are many peoples walking by. Ze Spaniards are yelling and calling; I sit quiet and in ze back of ze cell. I do not call attention to myself, so zat when ze cage is opened I might escape. Zere is a frizzy headed woman, she is looking to me. I hide further in ze cell, but she comes closer. Zen she opens ze cage and I jump into her arms. Zis is my chance. I will jump into her arms and zen escape, but she smells nice. She is warm and soft. I am so tired and ill. I zink if I can jess rest my head for a moment. I press my snout into her neck and she holds me tighter and rubs my neck and back. It feels good. I decide not to protest. I fall fast asleep again. When I wake I am still being held by ze frizzy haired woman. She is talking to ze woman who took my manly parts. She is signing papers and paying a ransom. Zen she wraps me into her coat and she and her man carries me to a vehicle. Zey place me ze vehicle and take me to a new location. Have I been traded to new terrorist, I wonder, but again I am too sick to protest. I am taken into a warm room with a fluffy bed and lots of blankets. I snuggle down when in comes two copains.


Ze first is a strong female. She sniffs me and pushes me with her snout. “What are you doing here” she asks in our silent language. I sniff back and answer “I am but a prisoner aren’t you?” Ze female snorts and says “you have got it all wrong. You are not a prisoner. You are now a prince. You see I too was a prisoner before being brought to this place. Now I am a queen. I have everything I desire. You too will see in time that you are the master of these people. Now little man lay your head down and sleep.”


Zat is how I became ze Prince of Ze Chateau De Kahuna. Where I am catered to and revered.  Zat is my story and I am sticking to it.  Viva La Resistiance!

10 comments:

Brenda said...

Dear Gladys! I love your post of the day! It made me cry! I just recieved your package in the mail. MANY THANKS, I love the bag and coffee cup! Have a great New years!

otin said...

Woof Woof Woof Woof!

I had to leave my comment in language that the author would understand lol!

Boz is a lucky doggy, some of them don't end up with wonderful owners.

Brian Miller said...

wonderful post, that wrenched my heart at the thought of the animals...people can be so cruel. i am glad for ze very lucky dog...

LiLu said...

Ahahahaha! I want one!

Coffee Bean said...

Lord have mercy!!! That made me cry! What a darling he is!

AngelMay said...

Thank you for a wonderful post. I was really touched by zee story. Much more than I can tell you.

Ann said...

Wonderful post!
(C'est Magnifique!)

Joanie said...

Spotte says: AAhhhh, zuch a wunnerful storee. I had the name "nasty scratcher bit--" in my old place and now that I've been rescued my name is "cutie pie purrin' girl". Just goes to show...

Tracy said...

So cute!

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