Great moments in history: Levi surrenders to Foley at Appomattix

As recounted by Pocket:

It was a cold Friday after Thanksgiving morning as Foley emerged from her tent for her morning constitutional. She heard the galloping of paw hoofs and turned to see General Mollie running to her with a missive in her mouth. Foley saluted her. Mollie spit the missive on the ground.

"It's from General Levi," Mollie said. "He is offering to surrender."

Foley took a long puff on her pipe and read the message. "Very well," she said. She called me over and asked me to write a message to General Levi. She would meet with him at the Appomattox Dog Park.

Foley then gathered her Generals: Hattie Mae, Hobo Hudson, Luca, Cocoa Puff, and Kolchak. Foley announced that they, along with her and I, would be walking to the dog park to hear his terms. "Walk?" Hattie huffed. "I just did my nails!" It was agreed that Hobo and I would carry sticks in our mouths and Hattie would lay on a chair constructed on these sticks.

We set out following a trail in the woods, Foley leading us, barkless. We came to a clearing, and saw an old school house, and could smell the enemy. One of the men stood in the doorway, then turned and said something to those gathered inside. General Levi then came to the door, and called for us to come.

We ran excitedly across the cold ground. We can't help it. We're dogs. Just before we entered the house Foley pulled up short, turned to us, and looked us in the eye, reminding us to keep our dignity.

We entered. While Foley was in her informal Tanner duds, Levi was dressed in his best skinny leg jeans, a pressed Duran Duran concert T-shirt, and a Germanna baseball cap, turned backwards.

Foley introduced her staff, knowing that General Levi was familiar with them all. General Levi then introduced his staff: General Confusion, General Malaise, General Chaos, General Mayhem, and General Anesthesia.

Levi then sat down at a wooden table in the center of the room, his scabbard scraping the floor. Foley looked up at the chair, wagged her tail, got ready to spring, thought about it, growled, took a couple of practice lifts, then jumped into the chair and slid across. Luckily General Cocoa Puff was on the side using her paws to keep the General from sliding off.

Foley righted herself. She told General Levi she read his twitter feed. He seemed to have no recollection of hers. They briefly chatted on the trials and pleasures of running an on line network. Then Levi's face grew serious. He snapped for, and got, a Corona with a twist of lime, from General Mayhem.

He took a sip. He drummed his fingers on the table. He shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "Too many losses," he said. "We suffered too many losses. When you defected we were confident you would come back. But we just continued suffering loses."

He took another pull of his drink. "First it was you and Pocket, people really enjoyed your blogs. But you foolishly put them on blogger so people could still read them. Then Tanner Bub. I underestimated his popularity. And Hattie Mae. When we lost Hattie Mae it seemed half our army went looking for her.

"Then we lost Erin. Not only did we lose her, but she shared our secrets, exposed our weaknesses, and left us with bland layouts. Zoe Boe: Those drawings were so popular. And Luca, Junior and Fred with their contests; Hobo with his kitty enterprises, Every day we lost another key member, and others would follow."

Foley Monster sat up, not showing any emotion. "We just kept suffering loss after loss, and even if some of your army spent most of their time with ours, when they were with you, we were losing activity, driving our rating down.

"That's when I made my deal. My deal with the Ning weasels." I saw Foley stiffen slightly as what she long suspected was confirmed. "I was sure if they started charging you for using their site you would reunite with us, but somehow you raised three years worth of money. It was then I knew the war was beyond winning.

"I still tried to get you back, contacting you via e-mail, even dropping all the rules that had driven you apart in the first place. But you had become too strong. So, after meeting with my Generals we have decided to surrender the castle, and all of Doggyspace to you, on your terms."

Foley Monster snapped her paws. I brought her a bowl of water. She licked some. She then looked at Levi, her fur dripping water. "I accept your surrender General Levi. The was is over and fairly won. But I do not accept your terms." General Levi took a drink with shaking hands.

Foley Monster put her front paws on the table and stood. "We have no interest in Doggyspace here. We only ask that you step down as leader and never bother another pup again. You see Doggyspace has thousands of dogs, but us pups, we prefer a small town, where you can leave your doors unlocked, where everyone knows your name, where everyone has a kind word to say to one another, where you have all laughed and cried together."

General Levi did not seem to understand. "We have surrendered but you don't want any of the spoils of war?"

Foley Monster told him they never wanted war. Just to have a nice, quiet, happy place to meet with friends who don't create drama or bark mean words. "We have some members who spend most of their time in your big city, and that's fine, but they still like to come out to our little spot in the country and put their feet up and rest. Some of us like to go up to the city some of the time, and return home to quiet. There are some pups who want to be in the hustle and bustle of the city all the time, and some, like us, who just want to live quietly, laughing, crying, loving, and playing."

General Levi took another sip of beer. He then leaned over to Foley. He offered his hand. Foley offered paw. They shook. The war was over.

General Levi then sat back and laughed. "I already got an offer on my army," he said. "I'm netting $800.00 a month. With you leaving the army in my hands I will be able to sell it," he paused, holding his pinkie finger to his lips, "for $10,000 dollars."

Foley jumped down from the chair. "Well congratulations General. That is quite a score for the heartache, pain, and lost friendships of a two year war."

General Levi stood. "That's what you never understood Foley. It's not about the friends, it's about the money. And now I can go to New York City and afford a pizza with extra cheese."

He nodded to his men and moved towards the door. "Just out of curiosity, who are you selling your army to?" General Hobo asked

"A great man, lost his job to affirmative action, now he lives in Texas, George W, Bush," Levi said,

"Well, there goes the hope for better spelling," Kolchak barked.

The men made for the door, then climbed on their horses. General Levi looked down at the little Yorkie General: "Congratulations Foley Monster, you do have a very loyal Brigade but let me tell you. You will never be successful at this. When you were raising money to pay the weasels, and people were sending you checks, you should have just taken the money and run, that's what I am going to do."

Foley and her generals watched Levi happily ride off into the sunset. He stood up in the saddle, and let out a "yahoo!" scaring the horse, which bucked, and threw him almost entirely from it's speeding body, except for his foot, which was caught in a stirrup, and he was dragged across the cold, hard ground, until the frightened horse, unaware of what was slowing it down, gave a violent thrust, and Levi's foot became loose from the stirrup, and he flew high through the air, against the setting sun, and over a cliff, disappearing into a shallow creek below.

"Hate to see that," General Hattie said.

"I don't think we've seen the last of him," General Hobo said. "I think he is a Bumble, and Bumbles bounce."

"Regardless, I don't think he'll be bother us for awhile," Foley said. She looked at her Generals. "Let's go home and be with our friends."

"That was a beautiful thing you said about the Tanner Brigade being a nice, small town," I said. "Did you mean it or did you say it because you know that Doggyspace is a huge soul sucking money pit?"

"Because I meant it," Foley,

"And because Doggyspace is a huge, soul sucking money pit," General Hobo said.

"Yes, that too," Foley said as they turned and headed for home.

Today we got a present from Shiloh's Mom

Today was the most exciting day since the flood. Daddy came home from work with the mail in his hand. He had a brightly colored package that gave off a slight whiff of the Brigade. I hurried next to him as he read the address, to Foley Monster and Pocket Gay from Shiloh Fogerty.

Daddy opened it up and pulled out a card. Shiloh's Mom said she was sorry she didn't get to meet us. We are sorry too. Why do humans have to get sick and cause dogs to miss their friends? I don't understand. Then he reached into the brightly colored envelope and started taking out gifts.

First came a box of treats. They are natural and good for us so usually I would say phooey on that. But since they came from my good friend Shiloh who knows lots about food I gobbled them down (and they were good too.) Pocket won't eat them until I have had a lot of them because, for some reason, she thinks Mommy and Daddy are trying to kill her, probably because, when we are alone in the bedroom, and she's locked in the crate, I sit outside of it and say "Mommy and Daddy are trying to kill you."

Then there were two balls, with feet! And they squeaked. Daddy threw it, Pocket chased it, then she dropped it, because she, for some reason, thinks Mommy and Daddy are trying to kill her. She kept going back to it, and she'll be playing with it soon, and getting it all wet and slobbery, and then I can steal it. I am so looking forward to it.

So thank you so much Shiloh and Mama Fogerty. If you come East again I surely hope to meet you. I hope you had a nice day in Concord. Did you go to bridge where the Revolution started? I peed there. I think there's a historical marker that says Foley peed here. There would be one for Pocket too but they ran out of markers.

So thank you so much, Shiloh is the bestest dog and you are the bestest Mom, and a special shout out to Pokey, Cooper and their Mom for mailing it. And anyone who wants to be the bestest Mom or the bestest dog, please mail me a gift. I a high class dog, but I can be bought.

Foley and Pocket worry the the Dog Whisperer turned their parents into zombies

Despite my using all the tools at my disposal, calling in all favors owed to me, and promising more than I will be able to repay, my parents still made it into Boston Sunday night to her the Dog Whisperer.

While Mommy and Daddy were preparing to go I hacked on to the security system for the Agganis Arena at Boston University. I sent out the following e-mail: “To all parking staff: Only admit one car at a time on to the lot. Only allow cars who have pre-paid with their credit card and have a printed out ticket park in the lot. Do not check to see if they have the ticket until they’re in the lot, and if they don’t have a ticket hold up the line as the car does a six point turn to get out of the lot and back on the street. Please take up to five minutes arguing/explaining the situation while others wait. Thank you.”

Then I looked at the weather report: Chance of showers. Well this would not do. I downloaded myself to Rainbow Bridge and convinced Tanner to meet with the weather Gods to cause a torrential rain to fall between 4:00 and 6:00 PM as Mommy and Daddy were driving to Boston. Tanner had to call in some major favors but just as my parents were leaving the rain began to fall.

I know my Mommy like I know the back of my paw. She doesn’t like traveling in the rain, and she doesn’t like traffic. Well, thanks to my e-mail the security at the Agganis Arena caused an hour traffic jam on Commonwealth Avenue, which caused Mommy and Daddy to creep along in the pouring rain. But I forgot the most important thing. If Mommy had bought a ticket on the Titanic, she would have gone down with the ship, ‘cause gosh darnit she paid for a boat ride and she was getting a boat ride.

They got there after the show started, so I take that as a small victory because DW says the really harmful stuff at the top of the show. My plan backfired when they were almost killed driving home in the pouring rain and the fog. Tanner made me promise to let him know when to tell the rain Gods to stop making it downpour, but I fell asleep and forgot. It wasn’t my fault. Scheming takes a lot out of a Yorkie.

There were no visible signs of change when they got home, except for the trembling from almost dying. I listened to see if they were showing signs of brainwashing. They talked about how good DW was in doing dog impressions. I was doing my human impression, tapping my paw impatiently waiting for them to get to the good stuff. They droned on about how he talked about his wife being his pack leader; about the funny reactions dogs have when people do things; how he made them laugh.

I wasn’t interested in how he made them laugh, I was interested in how he made them zombies.

Then they talked about the second half of the show where he worked with dogs; a stubborn German Shepard who kept snapping at a passing dog no matter how much the DW tried (yay!); a boarder collie who was supposedly afraid of vacuums but acted like the vacuum was his best friend (double yay); and a couple with two lap dogs who he introduced as a mother and son when it was really husband and wife. The wife was not amused. (Triple freaking yay.)

When I went to sleep Sunday night I was sure that we had escaped them turning into DW zombies.

The next morning Pocket and I were playing kill the Yorkie with the tail in the bathroom, barking up a storm when we heard “Shust.” Mommy thought it had worked because we were quiet. Actually we were on the ground laughing a Yorkie laugh, which is not very loud.

Later that day I saw that white kitty who pisses me off and started barking and Mommy stepped between me and the back door where I was kitty stalking and spread her arms out and told me she was owning the door.

I walked away. She can own the door. I own the danm house.

So it could have been worse, a little shusting here, a little door owning there. I guess I have it coming from almost killing them and all.

I am more disturbed by Daddy, who usually isn’t one for training, preferring just to hang with us. He thinks the Shust thing is weird so when we’re doing something he doesn’t like he looks at us and goes “Boo-La-La.”

Actually, I like that. Now, whenever my Mommy goes “Shust” I go “Boo-La-La,” so our house is “Shust” “Boo-La-La” “Shust,” “Boo-La-La,” and we’ve got a bunch of teenagers outside thinking a hip-hop band lives with us.

Foley is concerned her Mommy and Daddy will be brainwashed by the Dog Whisperer

I, Foley, have received some news that has Pocket and I very concerned. It came up shortly after another photo session. Pocket and I were talking while they scrolled through the pictures about how our parents couldn’t be more annoying: And then came the news, which will drive their annoying tenancies to unimaginable levels.

Tomorrow night my Mommy and Daddy have tickets to go to the Agganis Center at Boston University to listen to the propaganda of the man known to humans as the Dog Whisperer and known to dogs as He Who Shall Not be Whispered.

I have worked nine years of my life to train my parents to understand that I am the Pack Leader, that the couch and the chairs are mine, that when we walk I lead, that I do not come when called; I prefer to screen my calls and come when it is only necessary; and if I bark they are to be summoned immediately.

Now this illegal immigrant is going to ruin it for everyone. I know, he’s legal now, as much of a citizen as you and I, but I still remember the night Lou Dobbs and I were on boarder patrol, and I had a man sneaking across the boarder in my sites, ready to pull the trigger, when I saw a squirrel and became distracted then missed him. As he was running to the safety of America he turned to me and whispered “sucker.”

Lou hasn’t spoken to me since.

So now I pay for the transgression. (Danm squirrels have always been my downfall.) Mommy and Daddy will leave the house Sunday the nice, beautiful people I have always known and loved, and return under the influence of the Whisperer. They will be shushing, and trying to show they own the couch, and insisting we don’t go up until we’re “invited,” wanting us to walk next to them instead of running ahead. It is going to take weeks for Pocket and I to break them out of this trance.

If anyone knows how the deprogram Mommies and Daddies who have come under the influence of this evil Whisperer please let us know. We are going to need all the help we can get.