Pocket and the Secret Words

It is time for New Year’s resolutions, some of which I endeavor to keep before the final sunsets on 2018.

I am resolving to make my parent's life easier.  While on my walks, or looking out my back window, I bark at any person, dog, or cat I see, and sometimes I bark just to hear to my own melodious tone.  I do not vow to cease my barking, but I am willing to cooperate with my parents’ wishes that the noise is quieted.

Every dog has certain words that, when heard, immediately makes them stop barking.
Unfortunately, all the words that make me stop barking are racist.  When we are on walks, and my Dad is afraid my barking will cause the neighbors to complain, he will scan his surroundings to confirm there is no one within earshot and softly say one of the magic racist terms to stop my vocal expression.


Inevitably there will be someone behind a house who hears my Dad imploring me to stop barking via the secret word and that person will amble over to him and say “what did you call me?”  Daddy will explain to the stranger that he was trying to make us stop barking.  The person will look down at us and say “They don’t seem to be barking.”  That is when we have to save him from a certain beating by using our awesome power of cuteness.

But some people are not persuaded even by cuteness.  So we had to change our ways.  We have developed not just new words, but phrases that will make us not only stop barking but faithfully heal.  And I am going to let you know these phrases in case you would like to use them too.  They are:  

“Attention citizens:  I am here to announce that I am a registered sex-offender.”

“I just took a big poopy in my pants, and I don’t care.”

And: “I’m a lumberjack, and I’m OK.  I sleep all night and work all day.  I like to dress up in ladies’ clothing and hang around in bars!”

With such a wide array of phrases, I am sure my Dad will keep us quiet on our walks, and my resolution will be successful.

If not it is his fault.