Recently I have discovered that the cloud I was living under was lined with my own delusions. You see, I believed not only that I had a loving Mommy, but a loving big sister too, that was until I found out my sister had offered to loan me out as a treat test taster.
"You love treats, you will get them all day long, this is a great opportunity!" Foley said, wagging her tail nervously, trying to cover her shame.
"I would love to be a treat taste tester," I said, "but I only want to test Mommy's treats. And I don't think you made this offer twice, twice, without meaning it, and in full recognition of gypsy law meaning I would be obligated to go or we would be cursed. Plus Smoochy is a better writer than you are."
"Humph!" Foley said, turning around. I knew I had hurt her feelings but she had hurt mine too (and that was a really good blog by Smoochy.)
She went to snuggle in her blanket and I climbed up in the window hoping a gypsy wouldn't come and turn my Mommy into an old hag and my Daddy into an old.... Well let's move on.
Foley then ran downstairs very excited. She said that she had slept on it and she knew what to do. She threw down her blanket, held up her paws, and said "I've got it! A menage a trios"
I looked at her quizzically. "Wait, that wasn't for this problem. I have to write that down for later." Foley scratched it into the rug. She then turned her attention to me: "To keep the gypsy from our door, but not have you move, we are going to clone you."
She pulled out a q-tip and had me lick it. She then went to the basement where she has her laboratory (personally I think a tiny Yorkie lab is the reason no one wants to buy this place) and half an hour later came up with an almost exact duplicate of me, which she called Pickett Dog. We thought this would be the perfect solution to our quandary until Picket snuck out the door, led a group of rebel dogs against the Union squirrels in a forlorn hope challenge on Little Round Top and got wiped out.
"Open up, time for another swab," Foley said.
Her next product was Pucket. We were getting ready to send her to our good friends when she signed to play center field for the Minnesota Twins then left for any oldies tour with the Union Gap.
There were several other swabs, and several others clones: There was Locket, but she was so small you had to wear her around your neck; there was Socket, who seemed perfect, but if you accidentally slipped your finger into her butt you got a shock that sent you across the room; there was Rockit who barked Ozzy Osborne lyrics all night long' and Fockit, the most foul mouthed little dog you ever did come across. Finally we had to abandon our clone quest because Foley was exhausted and I was out of spit.
Finally Foley admitted her faux pas to Mommy who was not happy. But she assured us that Kolchak and Felix were our friends, and would not really put a gypsy curse on us, and if they did, well, we've been through worse. Maybe the gypsy curse would cancel out some of the other curses that have been dogging us recently.
It seems, from their latest postings, that, while Koly and Felix would love to have me as a sister (let's face it, who wouldn't) they would no longer be intent on putting curse on us, which I am very happy about, because I know they're bad, because whenever anything goes wrong in Charlie Brown's life he says either "Good Grief" or "Curses."
But I do have a compromise to offer. Koly and Felix can send me their treats to test and I will blog about their absolute wonderfulness, or not so much wonderfulness. And, if I chose not to try it the Foley can, because she owes both Mommy and I over the entire gypsy thing.
And on a personal note, I think I would love to be the little sister to Kolchak and Felix. I think they are wonderful pups and would protect me. And they would never get a gypsy curse put one me.
So let's just say I haven't totally closed the door on this idea, my friends.
Love, Pocket Dog