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The Eighteenth Prophecy

You would think that they have figured out that I HATE tomatoes for all I’m worth. I mean, I have been with this family for the past two and a half years of my life. But they haven’t. They’ve gone ahead and served me that wretched vegetable for a “snack” today. Someone has to remind them that snacks are NOT supposed to be healthy. Dog snacks, anyway.

It’s like I’m the only one on this planet with a good [more like FRIGGIN’ AWESOME] taste. Which is sad, because there is so much “good stuff” this world has to offer [belly rubs and ice-cream tubs are a few examples] and, I have to say, we aren’t using them very well. For example, when dad and I passed Mascot the pet store last evening… well, that sentence pretty much covers what I was trying to say. We passed the shop. We didn’t pop in and splurge on Pedigree chews and squeaky toys.

[Which is a pity, because the display looked particularly appetizing…]

Another thing that bother me is the careless waste of money. Its not like cash grows on trees, people!! To give you a better understanding on what I’m trying to say here, let me copy a snippet of the conversation that took place between my two human-siblings yesterday:

Taylor: Let’s buy a pound of Liquorice Allsorts!!

Trikaya: No!! It’s my money too and I say we get a dozen lollipops!! The red ones with the sugary coating…

Taylor: Absolutely NOT. We are buying the Allsorts and that’s FINAL.

Trikaya: No, we’re NOT!! If you buy the Liquorice, I’ll tell mum that it was YOU who broke her priceless flower vase.

Taylor: You wouldn’t DARE. And this conversation is OVER. We’re buying what I want and that’s that.

Trikaya: >Eyes welling up< Pretty please???

Taylor: >Marching out of the room with her nose upturned< I can’t hear you!!

You see?? I wanted to slap them both and box their ears and say in a tired voice, ‘Darlings, we’re NOT spending the money on candy because I can’t eat any!! Instead, we’ll invest on a king-sized bed and a pool table for me. Now, fetch me the money and go out to play.’

See?? Wasn’t my ending better?? And I would say it in a coaxing voice that people find hard to resist. Well, the people who have heard it anyway. Oh, alright, NOBODY has heard me speak. Ever. But that’s going to change. When I invent the ‘EVERYBODY SPEAK NOW!’ portion, all creatures that are housed on this marvelous planet will be able to frame sentences that other people can understand!!

Humans will learn to understand that ‘Woof Bark Woof Woof Bark’ isn’t just a series of dog cries, but it really means, ‘Would you be so kind as to pass the butter dish, madame??’ Animals all over the globe will be able to get a decent scratch on the back without croaking half to death just to attract attention. The world’s scientists will be forever indebted to me,  HRH Feni, 37th cousin of the queen, and I… well, my face will be splattered all over the headlines every single day of the week.

Celebrities say stuff like ‘Being famous is tough’ and ‘If you don’t do one thing in your life, don’t become famous’ [what?? I like reading my weekly gossip magazines, okay??] just to keep away the competition. Hah! I’ll teach those amateurs a lesson or two on ‘How To Behave Like a Proper Pop Star.’ Oops, looks like I’ve got to go. Taylor is screeching my name for my daily treatment.

She calls this procedure “medicine” but I’d say it’s more like torture. First she shoves this brick-sized tablet down my throat and then she pours down cups of ghastly syrup into my delicate snout. To add insult to injury, she then squeezes out some weird cream out of a white tube and smears it all over my elbow-rash that causes it to burn like a flaming volcano.

Maybe after the success of my ‘EVERYBODY SPEAK NOW’ formula, I will write a book titled:

‘Etiquette. A guide on how to behave written by Feni the dawg, distant relative of her Royal Highness.’

That should show them!!

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