Foley's Tales From Rainbow Bridge: The Case of the Baconless Beggin Strips

 

As the world’s foremost dog attorney, I have represented many lawsuits brought by puppy plaintiffs. Madison v Marmaduke, Snoopy v the Red Baron Pizza, and Ark Animals v Noah were filed the day after their journey ended by two beagles on board because they had reserved an upper berth and got stuck below the elephants.

Last week, I was sniffing through some potential lawsuits when I found a defendant so heinous that, if it became public, he would mediately pass the prehistoric guy with a knife who said, “I can make their dogs stop reproducing” as the greatest villain in all of dogdom.

The case was brought against the maker of Beggin Strips because there is no bacon in Beggin’ Strips.

What is the literal duck? Because of Purina, generations of dogs thought bacon tasted like the Toppe’s Baseball card under the gum, which you eat when you’re not paying attention.

I asked Pocket to research what Beggin’ Strips are made of and report back to me. She went under the sink, got a bag, and read the ingredients.

The first one was Ground Wheat. I don’t like Ground Wheat. I prefer Air Wheat. I like the logo: A loaf of bed dunking a ball.

Then, there was a corn gluten meal. I am not sure what that is. I think it’s something corn upchucks when getting shucked aggressively.

I can’t believe I spent most of my mortal time begging for wheat and corn gluten; that would be the second part of my lawsuit, wasting my time and energy on corn gluten.

The rest of the ingredients were equally as uninspiring and included Glycerin, which, if I mixed it with Nitro, would give me something to throw at this mischievous Purina bastard.

Full of self-righteousness and indignation, I filed my case in dream court, charging the defendant with bacon fraud, the worst kind of fraud, at least concerning swine.

It was the most significant case since Oscar Meyer vs. the Wiener Brothers.

When it was time for my opening, I laid forth our case that we, as a species, had been conned by those whom we trust second only to our parents: Our food maker.
They were clever, putting in a touch of bacon fat and artificial smoke flavor caused by working on the ensemble line, all smoking blunts to help them get through their soul-sucking shifts.

The judges did not have to hear any longer.

I had won.

But despite being self-satisfied with my presentation, it was a dream come true, and the bigger the company, the less they had to pay.
Justice only takes place in the dream world.
It is why I am there every night.