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.

Poetry Thursdsy

 

fAngel Sammys and Teddys Pawetaton has provided the pictute below for this week's inspiration. 

Lower taxes he did promise.

His words were meant to calm us

I hate to be a doubting Thomas

But I think our new Senator did con us.

 

He said he would repeal Obama Care

And in his first day he ran through the Russell Building in his underwaare

That made me think I should beware

Especially when he wore tissue boxes as footware.

 

He kept his promises, like the one about a chicken in every pot

But they were alive and had pooped in the pot a lot.

He said we would own our own yacht

But his behaviior made all promises for naught.

 

As soon as he took office he ravaged the country’s funds.

He caused massive inflation, and sold our enemies guns.

He got the secretary of state pregnant and flashed her grandson.

It is a mystery why he caused the fleeing of the holy nuns.

 

He put the country on the path to war

By ordering Canada invaded by the marine corps

And in an effort to show strentgth to those he did abhor

He meant to take out China and blew up Singapore

 

He pulled out, leading to the dissolution, of NATO

He appointed an interim ttorney General named Kalen Kato

He put all his ideas in a manifesto.

And labled all those against him a RHINO.

 

His constintutes he didn’t respect

And his needs he did neglect

And maybe in time we will reflect

On why we are working so hard to reelect

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                 

 

 

 

                                                                                                                                                                                                                

Althou

Wordless Wednesday

 

Beat Thie Caption

Can I have a pile of rotting garbage sevbed in the middle of the street3 please? Oh, and a Diet Coke

Monday Question

Have you ever had a four legged guest stay at your house and if so how did you react?

I haven't had a guest over, but my Big Little Angels did, and they welcomed our cousin Neely on several occassions.

I don't think I would be as welcoming.

I deserve all the attention. 

 

The Ruby Rose Report: The Prescription Dog Food Battle

 

My friend Perry had a case of itchies. While most dogs hate going to the vet, he welcomed it. He would have put up with anything not to spend all night scratching. He got his diagnosis: he had a food allergy. The vet wrote him a prescription for a bag of food so expensive you needed a doctor’s note to show you had a reason for buying it and weren’t out of their minds,

The food was so expensive that his mom could not afford another baby when the last few kibbles were shaken from the bag; Poor Perry would never have a scratch-free night.

I read all this in my yard, where Perry had left his sad pee-mail. Not a fan of open urination, I left roll mail telling him to listen for tapping on his screen in the middle of the night. I knew where we could get cheap prescription food.

I snuck out of my house and ran to Perry’s. He came out quickly, and I told him to follow me. When he saw where we were going, he stopped, afraid. I told him not to worry. The project we were entering is where my prescription dog food connects.

A Doberman stood on the street corner under a broken light. “Got your Royal Canin digestive formular here, fix up your bowels Got Pro Plan kidney formula, get you peeing straight.”

I told Perry to follow me. I slowly approached. “Hey, Griffie what you need? Fiber care? You all blocked up? Got what you need. Got light formula. You’re looking a little chunky. I could hook you up.”

I told the Doberman, Lou, what Perry needed, and Lou told him he could hook him up. A chihuahua pushed a wagon with the bag in it. I told Perry to pay Lo when suddenly the sidewalk lit up, and the police told us to get on the ground.

I told Perry to get in the wagon and push it behind a building. There was a hole in the fence. We fit through, but the bag got stuck. The dog catchers were closing on us, but Perry needed his fix. He pulled the bag through, and we disappeared into the woods. A short time later, we were both home.

I read on the news that the dog police picked up Lou that night. But it wouldn’t matter; someone else would be on the corner tonight selling that good prescription food.

And like humans, telling a dog just to say no doesn’t work.l

Especially one with the itches

Foley''a Tails From Raiinbow Bridge

I went to visit Ruby in her dreams this week. River is her familiar, the angel who spends the most time with a mortal. But I, being Mommy’s [s heartiest of her heart dogs, check in now and then to make sure all of my mom’s needs were being met.

Ruby is doing an excellent job, but there is one small thing. When her demands for a scratch are met, she leaves behind a fluffy pile of fur. My parents have to use the wand to clean up after her. (It is not a real wand. I found that out the hard way when I tried to turn Pocket into a duck.)

“I shed because I have fur, like real dogs do,” Ruby rudely remarked.

I was taken aback. I did not know my newest sister was an anti-hairline. Offended, I asked her what she meant.

“How would a dog with hair survive in the wild?” she asked. “While dogs with fur are hunting, gathering, and protecting you will have hair in your eyes and unable to do anything until a human gives you a haircut.­”

Wounded, I was afraid she might be right, so I set out to prove that an ungroomed dog with hair can survive independently.

I did an I Paw search for dogs with long hair in the wild, and it brought me to a story that proved that a dog with hair does need some human help, but we provide enormous inspiration.

When the Animals Friends Connection Humane Society was informed that two dogs were not cared for in a yard, they sprang into action.

But they only found one dog and what looked like a pile of hair that a Fulminator had created.

Then the pile moved.

Tony, the name bequeathed on the pile of hair, was the most matted and overgrown dog they had ever seen. The rescuers scurried Tony off the seat and got him to the groomers. The technicians were worried they would be hit, unsure of which end they were dealing with, but when they found a wagging tail, they knew they were safe.

Tony had 14 pounds of hair removed. Soon, he looked like an adorable little dog who was quickly adopted.

My lesson from this? While long hair can hinder a dog, it also gives us instant camouflage, allowingow us to sneak up on our enemies.

I would rather be a long-haired spy than a furry food soldier.

This is why long-haired dogs rule,