Foley told me I needed to have an adventure so off I went to Russia to check out the Chachi Olympics. I was able to get an open media pass, because no one from the dog blogging community had claimed one. I had to wear it around my neck at all times so I would not be confused with a stray dog. When I got into my hotel room it was furnished poorly, dimly lit, overcrowded, hot and the water was yellow. If there were more people in walkers i would have sworn I was back in Florida.
I decided if I was going to make a splash with my first big adventure I had to get the big interview of the Olympics: Vladimir Putin. It being the Chachi Olympics I e-mailed Scott Baio and asked him to set up the interview but the little punk ignored me so I contacted The Fonz because Chachi always did what he said, and soon Putin’s people were calling me for an appointment.
I trekked over to his villa overlooking the mud mountain where the skiers skidded downhill. I kept my credentials around my neck so I would not be confused with a stray dog and rounded up or adopted by an overeager American slope skier. When I reached the library where the shirtless Putin sat on a hobby horse I was frisked by a hairy cossack with cold hands.
Finally I was given an audience with his Putiness. Of course my first question was his horrible treatment of the stray dogs on the streets of Chachi.
“The dogs were a badness on our streets. Badness on the streets must be eliminated. First badness: Homeless dogs. Second badness: Homeless people. Third badness: Home owning Gay people. All must go. Stain on Russia.”
I told him that it was my understanding that the Olympics was about bringing people of different beliefs and cultures together to celebrate our differences.
“Not in Russia. This is the Bizarro Olympics. Winter Olympic in cold place, we have in warm place. Hotel have running water, we have creeping sludge. Olympic welcome everyone with open arms, we have hairy Cossack beat them with club.”
I asked him about his treatment of dogs. If he knew they were having the Olympics why didn’t they find home for the street dogs then, why wait until the Olympics were starting then decide to kill my comrades.
“We Russia. We don’t prepare so good. Hitler say he hate Communists He offer us deal. We say OK. He wipe us half out. What a country.”
And that’s when I called him a dick. And then they said to lock up the little dog. The bare chested dictaitor on the hobby horse told me to put me behind a foor foot gate because a little dog like me couldn’t get out. But was you know I am a flying dog, and I jumped over that gate and ran back to the Olympic village where one of those crazy slope skiers brought me home in his luggage.
But before that I took a big dump on that Putin guys shirt.