Saturday, August 4, 2007

Chapter Two: In Which I Strike Down the Unrighteous Infidels

The background information required to understand this piece revolves primarily around the fact that we have two dogs living in our household. One of them is Kenya - a mixed breed Belgian Waffle Dog. She's been with us most of her 14 years and is as well behaved as you only wish most of the insufferable rug rats a lot of people are raising today were. The other dog is Mr. Basset. He is a purebred basset hound who came to us from a basset rescue society, as he was no longer welcome in his original home.

In most ways, Mr. Basset is a likable chap with more personality than you should be able to fit into such a short beast. Of late, though, he has developed some alarming habits which all center around his food. Now, our pets get top notch pet food. (The cats, too.) The dogs get wet food every day in the afternoon when medicine is distributed (discretely tucked into lumps of cream cheese) and for the rest of the time there is nutritious dry dog food available in a big dish next to their water. For roughly eight months, Mr. Basset ate this dry food when he had the urge for a little nosh without complaint or comment. That was until roughly two weeks ago.

Now, each evening around the time that Mr. Basset rolls off the couch and waddles over the bowl for a snack, instead of eating the food quietly, he stands in front of the dish and barks. Loudly. After this vocal demonstration concludes, he paws at the dish until he finally overturns it, emptying the dry food out onto the carpet and leaving the dish upside down. At this point he eats the food off the carpet.

At first I thought he no longer liked the brand of dog food being served. Georg ran out and purchased a bag of even more expensive dog food to try as a substitute. No change. The nightly ritual of bark - bark - overturn - eat continued. (Kenya cheerfully eats whatever is put down.)

It was only yesterday that I realized the problem. Each morning, when I begin work, I turn on CNN Headline News with Robin Meade (could the woman look any hotter for a cable network news anchor? I think not. And she has a dog also.) and keep it on in the background while I work. Mr. Basset often naps on the couch while I do this. But is he really napping?

There have been a series of stories over the past month about pet food from China having been found to contain antifreeze, arsenic, old school bus tires, cardboard and all manner of other substances not normally found in the dairy aisle at your grocery store. Georg immediately checked every type of pet food in the house, discarded any that were questionable, and made sure we purchased no pet foods from China. Sadly, I think this fact is lost on Mr. Basset. Clearly, while pretending to nap, he has been watching Robin Meade (and let's face it... who wouldn't?) and hearing all of these stories. He's worried that we're poisoning him with ground glass and hafnium laced pet food.

I have no other choice left. I must blame the Chinese. (See Chapter one for the initial revelation that (The CHINESE!!!) are to blame for most of my woes.) So that's it. I'm going to become a ...

... a....

SINOPHOBE! (There's your new word for today, and thank The Google that I was able to dredge it up.) So come on, all you Sinophobes.. let's band together and get those rat bastards who are making our basset hounds bark at and overturn their dishes! YEEEEE HAW! (Insert random gun noises here.)

Tomorrow: I make a rare excursion outside my home and meet a young child who prompts me to call for the forced sterilization of all American couples.

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