Saturday, August 1, 2009

Foley and Pocket take a meeting with Chief Glynn Johnson

When Foley first learned that her legal services were required in Los Angeles, and who her client would be, she was tempted to decline. But, after consulting with her fellow members of the Tanner Brigade she decided to take the case.

She met Deputy Chief Glynn Johnson in the offices of his attorneys: Ripemoff and Screwem. Chief Johnson sat at the conference table alone. When he saw the two Yorkies enter, each wearing black-framed glasses and carrying a briefcase in their teeth he stood and backed against a wall.

“Relax Chief,” Foley said. “We aren’t here to do any harm, we have been asked by Ripemoff and Screwem to be co-counsel.”

“But you’re dogs!” he said.

“Can’t get anything past you,” Foley said. “When you have a rapist on trial, you have a female co-counsel sit at the table with him, if a white man is arrested for a hate crime against a black man, then you want a black man at the table with him. If you senselessly beat a helpless puppy you then you get a puppy to sit at the table with you.”

Chief Johnson shifted uncomfortably. “How do I know that you don’t have sympathy for the victim and won’t give me your best effort?”

“Chief Johnson, I am outraged. Never have I represented anyone who has questioned our integrity or professionalism,” Foley answered.

“Well one of you just unprofessionally took a piss under the table,” he said looking down at Pocket.

“Pocket, get up here,” Foley said. Pocket jumped up in the chair next to Foley. “How many times have I told you not to pee in front of the clients?”

“I’m sorry but I had to pee!” Pocket said.

“I stood outside the building for 15 minutes holding your leash in my mouth while you did nothing but sniff the flowers and as soon as we walk in the door, bam, you’re peeing.”

“That’s because they gave us a big welcoming bowl of water when we got here and as soon as I drink I have to pee,” Pocket said.

“You don’t drink all the water, you take a sip to be polite,” Foley said.

“I was thirsty from sniffing all those flowers.” Pocket said.

“Excuse me,” Chief Johnson interrupted, “but am I being charged for this?”

Both Yorkies turned and looked at Johnson and Foley began to growl, the corners of her mouth twitching upwards.

“Oh, you got Foley mad,” Pocket said as Foley continued to snarl and growl. “You’re going to have to scratch her, right where her breast bone starts, that’s the only way to get her calm.”

“I don’t know, I ain’t much one for scratching dogs,” Johnson said folding his arms.

Foley growled louder and gave out a tiny woof. “You better do it Mr. Johnson you wouldn’t like to see her angry,” Pocket said.

Foley jumped on the table, walked across, sat down in front of Johnson, reached forward with her left paw, and began brushing Johnson’s right hand. Johnson lifted his hand and reluctantly began to scratch Foley where her neck met her chest and she gave out a soft moan like a squirrel enjoying an Almond Joy.

“Now can we please move on to my defense?” Johnson said. Foley was too overcome with pleasure to be much help, as she rolled over on her back and exposed her belly, which Johnson began to stroke as if she was a rabid skunk, so it was up to Pocket to look over the paperwork from Ripemoff and Screwem that outlined his defense.

“Oh,” Pocket said, “I see you are going with the original OJ defense.”

“That’s right: The Bitch Had It Coming.” Johnson said.

With that Foley snapped out of her chest rubbing stupor and humphed, walked back to her chair, sat down, cleared her throat and told the Chief this was not a particularly good idea.

“What my esteemed colleague and I think is a better strategy is showing that Karley had pre-existing injuries, and what you did had no bearing on her unfortunate passing,” Foley said, as Pocket sat up straight and adjusted her Tanner Brigade bandana at hearing she had been called esteemed by Foley.

“Now, what we would like to prove that there could be no injuries delivered from man to dog, or vice-versa, that would be life threatning,” Foley said confidently.

‘Yes, that’s brilliant, I’ve been saying that,” Johnson answered enthusiastically. “So I was thinking you could bring in some dogs, and I could do what I did to Karley and then the dog could give me a lick, jump down, and everybody could see their OK, and, in fact, that they enjoyed it”

“Um,” Foley said thinking, “I don’t think so. What I was thinking is we could show how dogs can’t hurt you.”

“Well, what kind of dogs, you know, I don’t want to be rasslin’ with no pit bull.”

“Let me show you,” Foley said. She whispered to Pocket who jumped down and opened the doggy door. The Narzario Dogs walked in.

“What those little dogs?” the Chief asked laughing. He stood up and walked around the table facing them. “Bring them on,” he said.

“OK Chief,” Foley said, “but I got to warn you, they’re from Chicago.”

“Oh, I don’t think I need…..” the gang took off and jumped at her him teeth bared “oh Mama help me,” the Chief said.

Magoo hit him high while Mikey took his legs out knocking him to the ground. Bennie, Francis and Sophie then were on him, scratching him, ripping his clothes. Then Juno ran up to him, grabbed a hold of his nose, and bit it off.

The Chief was on the ground screaming holding his face. Foley thanked the Narzario Dogs as they ran out, bouncing the Chief’s nose between them.

“Now that didn’t hurt did it Chief?” Foley asked.

“What are you talking about? I have scratches all over my body and my nose is gone. Don’t you think it hurts?”

“Well, then that would go against our defense. You know, it was a pack of dogs, how about just one dog?” Foley asked.

“One dog,” he said sniveling, “yeah, I think I could handle one dog.”

Pocket nodded and lifted the dog and a German Shepard wiggled through. “This is Baron, also known as Bear,” Foley said. “Now get him.”

Bear jumped on Johnson, knocking him down, and then turned his attention to his leg, where he sunk his teeth in, pulled, and removed the leg, then turned and ran out the door.

“My leg, my leg, that dog stole my leg!” he cried.

“But does it hurt?” Foley asked.

“Of course it hurts that dog bit off my leg for no reason!”

“Oh he had just cause Chief,” Pocket said. “We have this picture of you peeing on his lawn.”

“I didn’t pee on no dog’s lawn!” Johnson said trying to sit up.

“We have this picture Mr. Johnson. This is Baron’s house. And isn’t this you peeing on it at 2:00 AM?”

The Chief had sat up and now he squinted at the picture. “That was his house? I didn’t know that was his house. I was walking by and just had to pee!”

“That’s what I say!” Pocket said.

“Now Chief, does your leg really hurt, from that little dog?”

He used a chair to steady himself. “Perhaps we need to get you some medical attention?” Foley asked.

“Yeah, I could really use a Doctor.”

“Well then you’re in luck because we have, from Roseburg Oregon, the prestigious medical practice of Dr. Shams, Dr. Karma, and the pack,” Foley said as the dogs rushed through the door at him.

“Oh God!” Chief Johnson yelled as he tried to move, but fell to the floor, and then the dogs were on him, sticking their claws in his ear, tearing tissue off his leg for examining, sticking their nose into his nose cavity to determine the damage, and pulling out a thermometer.

“Wait, wait, wait” the Chief yelled. “The thermometer doesn’t go in there, it doesn’t go in there.” Duke stuck it in there.

The Chief jumped up, tried to steady himself on one leg, stumbled, hit the window sill, and fell backwards out the window, as the dogs ran over to watch him fall. “I think he’s going to hit the awning!” Foley said. “Nope, missed it by that much.”

Johnson’s body landed on the pavement. It caused a hole to open and his body was consumed by the fiery bowels of hell.

Foley watched as the pavement closed not even leaving a crack. “Well that worked out just swell,” Foley said.

“Us puppiez knowz how to do juztize,” Shams said.

“That’s right Shams,” Foley said. “No lawyers, or continuances, just make him see how his actions caused others to suffer, then dump him out a window into an eternity of darkness and fire.”

“The Tanner Brigade has done it again!” Pocket said.

“And so have you Pocket!” Bear said pointing to another puddle under the table.

“Oh man Pocket,” Foley said. “You have to clean that up!”

“It wasn’t me!” Pocket said and she sat down so no one would smell her wet who-who.

She was saved by Juno who told them that the staff of Ripemoff and Screwem had returned from their lunch.

“Let’s go,” Foley said. She opened her briefcase with her mouth and pulled out several Tanner Brigade bandannas. The dogs put them on, and then jumped out the open window, and the bandannas acted as parachutes and they glided softly and safely to the ground.

“Wow, that was cool!” Magoo said.

Foley gathered the bandannas and the Brigade climbed on their Pocket Rockets and headed back to their Mommy’s lonely laps, flying right over the spot where Chief Johnson was consumed by hell’s fire.

This was written by request of Shams, Karma and the Pack. It was written in memory of Karley and our own sweet Sophie Bub. It was also written in the hopes that we could put a smile on Baron’s Mom’s face and Mollie’s Mom’s face, and ease their pain and worry for a moment or two.

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