The Pocket Kennedy saga concludes

Pocket has made it into the Kennedy inner sanctum at Hyannis Port and convinced The Kennedy that she is a real member of the family. Just as she was about to be fully backed by the family a woman notices a puddle on the floor.

“What is this puddle?” the woman asked.

“Ah, don’t worry, ah, must be spilled chowder,” The Kennedy said.

Pocket let out a big sigh of relief: If they couldn’t tell the difference between chowder and pee then who was she to disagree.

“Now Pocket, we are going put the entire weight of the Kennedy family behind you.” He grabbed a briefcase and opened it. He took out a paper with rows of people’s name followed by numbers. “This is a list of people who will be contributing to your campaign,” he said.

Pocket looked at the list. “Well isn’t that sweet,” she said. “I have about 100 of my doggy friends who will be giving me a million dollars and moving to Massachusetts to vote for me.”

“Ahh, yes, that’s impressive, we have a million people on the docks in Ireland ready to come ashore and vote for you for a hundred dollars. It’ll ahh, all balance out.”

Pocket continued to study the paper. “Why would all these kind people give me money, they haven’t even sniffed me yet?”

“Well, Pocket, they ahh, give you their money, and then they will, ahh, tell you how to vote on issues.”

Pocket stopped looking at the list. “Oh, I don’t know about that Mr. Kennedy. I was planning on looking at each issue individually, weighing the pro and cons of each, and voting on what I believe is the best for the country.”

“Hah hah hah hah hah!” the Kennedy laughed so hard chowder came out of one nostril and Scotch out of the other. ‘We ought to have you speak at the correspondents dinner, you’d kill there.”

Pocket tilted her head and looked up at him confused.

“Oh my god, ah, you’re not kidding. You really are a pup aren’t you? Well ahh, this is how our country works, men, ahh, give you money to help you, ahh, get elected, you do what they want so you can, ahh, get elected again.”

“Oh I don’t even like my Mommy telling me what to do, quiet down, get off the back of the couch, don’t pee there. I think people should give me money and let me pass legislation as I see fit, and if they disagree, they can give their money to someone else next time,” Pocket said.

The Kennedy gave her a look of disappointment and took back the list. “I am sorry Pocket but no Kennedy could ever have so little knowledge of how the American political system works. I’m afraid I am going to have to not only withdraw our support for your candidacy, but also ask you not to refer to yourself as a Kennedy during the campaign.”

Pocket felt her little heart breaking. The Kennedy stood up and told her that she was going to have to leave. She walked out of the house with her head down just as she heard the lady Kennedy say “Hey, this isn’t chowder.”

She was surprised to find her sister Foley waiting for her. “What did they say?” Foley asked.

“I wouldn’t agree to let people who contribute money to the campaign tell me how to vote so they said I wasn’t a Kennedy and asked me to leave,” Pocket said with her tail between her legs.

Foley gave her a playful nip and then a big kiss. “What are you doing that for I failed at becoming a Kennedy?” she said.

“You stood up for what you believe Pocket. You showed that you couldn’t be bought, most humans wouldn’t be able to do that. And when you’re elected Senator you won’t be beholden to special interest groups, just your doggy friends. I’m proud of you,” Foley said giving her a lick.

“You’ve never been proud of me before!” Pocket said, her tongue curling into a smile.

“Well I am today, now look over there, see that Portuguese Water Dog on that boat, that’s Splash, and look on deck, there’s 12, Chappy, Whiskey, Matilda, Luca, Tadertot, Shiloh, Cali, Hurley, Max, Tupper, Pokey, Macdougal, Brody, Sandy, Mollie, Morgan, Hattie, Zoey, Hobo, Erin and Cocoa Puff, and there are more below deck, all here to support you. Splash is going to steal the boat and go sailing, you coming?”

“Did they bring a million dollars?” Pocket asked.

“They brought their love and friendship,” Foley told her.

“That’s nice but I have a tough primary ahead.” Foley told her to forget about the election for one day and have fun sailing with their friends. Pocket smiled he widest smile and asked if she could pee on the deck.

“Of course you can Pocket, now let’s get over to the boat before they cast off.”

The two sisters bounced toward the ship, their tails wagging. “What do you think about another family?” Pocket asked. “How about Pocket Bush?”

“I think Pocket’s just fine,” Foley said as the climbed on the deck and set out to sea.

Pocket reaches the inner sanctum

Pocket has gone to Hyannis Port to meet her new family, the Kennedys, but, upon finding out that she was neutered, and sexually inactive, it was determined she could not possibly be a true Kennedy and had the door slammed in her little face. But when all seemed lost the door opened.

“Ahh,” the Kennedy man who opened the door said. “A neutered sex-less Kennedy, now, ahh, that could work for us. No sex scandals, no Vatican denying annulment, you might be, ahh, on to something here,” he said motioning for Pocket to cross the threshold. When she did she entered a large living room with floor to ceiling windows giving an expansive view of the Atlantic.

“Oh no,” Pocket thought, “all that water’s going to make me pee.’

The man pointed towards a chair and told Pocket to sit. She hopped up on it. “Would you like some chodaw?” the Kennedy asked. ‘No thank you,’ I answered, “chowder gets stuck in my fur and smells.”

“Ah, that’s the most disgusting thing I have ever heard,” Kennedy said, “but I like it. How are your drinking habits?”

“As soon as it gets poured I’m right over there lapping it up before my sister gets hers,” I said. “I’m told I get more on the ground than in my mouth.” The Kennedy was smiling and nodding his head along with her. “And if I drink too much too fast I get that snorts and end up peeing on the floor.”

“My God, it’s like looking in the mirror,” the Kennedy said. “Now, about ahh, driving, do you do it?”

“Oh no I don’t drive at all,” Pocket said.

“That’s good, we’ve ahh, we’ve had our problems driving.”

“I do like to stick my head out of the car while it’s moving,” I said.

“Umm, yes, uhh, you might have to stop doing that, we’ve, uhh, found out the hard way it’s better to keep your head in the car.”

Pocket thought that would be a small sacrifice to make.

“Have you served in the ahh, military, it is ahh, very important to have that on your, ahh resume.”

“My sister and I led the assault on the Princess’ castle the day Tanner went to Rainbow Bridge,” I said.

“Ahh, very good, code, the walls have ears, and what was your rank?”

“Lollipop!”

The Kennedy was taken aback, and then held up his hand. “Well the Senator always believed in don’t ask don’t tell. What is your position on health care?”

“Every time I go to the Doctor I get something rammed up my butt hole and I don’t like it. I don’t think we should have to take it up the bum hole every time we get sick.”

The Kennedy smashed his hand on the table spilling the contents of his tray, making two great tastes that taste great together, chowder and scotch. “There it is. Not even the Senator put it so succinctly. American shouldn’t have to take it up the bum hole every time they go to the Doctor. I am going to have to pass that on to Barak. Pocket, we are proud to have you as a Kennedy and you have our full support for the Senate seat.”

Pocket’s tongue curled up in a big smile. Things could not have possibly gone better and she could see herself in Washington passing laws to help all her doggy friends.

“Hey,” the female Kennedy said. “What is there a puddle under the table?”

Pocket’s smile quickly disapeered and her stubby tail went between her legs.

To be continued

Pocket meets the Kennedys

On Labor Day I received the most exciting news, Joseph Kennedy had decided not to seek his Uncle’s Senate seat leaving only one Kennedy in the running, the newly christened Pocket Kennedy.

It was time for me to take my place, not just in the Senate, but at the Kennedy’s ancesteral home in Hyannis Port. I climbed aboard my Pocket Rocket and flew down Route 495, over the Sagamore Bridge, to the Kennedy compound.

I walked up to the wide porch and scratched at the door. One of those Kennedy men who look like they were created in the basement from the same mold answered and looked down at me.

“Hello, I am Pocket Kennedy!” I said.

“Theeers a doug on the pooch!” this unknown Kennedy said.

Oh no. I had taken so much time to prepare and there was a doug on me. What the heck’s a doug?

“Ask it what it wants,” a woman’s voice said from inside.

“Ahh, What do you, ahh, want?” the older Kennedy asked.

“I am a Kennedy. Pocket Kennedy. I am running for the Senate seat and I wanted to meet my new family.” I said.

“Well, ahh, how do I know that ahh, you ah one of us ahh?”

“Give him the test!” the woman said.

“Ahh,” the man said. “The ahh test, yes. Ah, who is your ah, fatha?” I said I didn’t know. “Ahh, that is correct, very good. Now, who is your motha?” I said all knew was my AKC paperwork said she was a bitch. “Ah, correct again. Finally, how many children do you have that ah, don’t live with you?”

“I can’t have children I have been fixed,” I said.

“Ahh, no, that’s wrong, we ahh, we breed like rabbits, but thanks for coming,” he then shut the door in my face.

What was I to do? If I couldn’t get into the inner sanctum how would I prove I was a Kennedy?

Suddenly the door opened again

To be continued