Woof Humor

The Ninety-Eighth Eureka

I’VE GOT IT!!!!!! I’ve figured out how to let Kathryn down slowly, mentioning that it’s not her, it’s me [oh wait, we’re not BREAKING UP, right?? So scrap the last part]. This is what I’m going to do. [I’ve already saved a draft of the e I’m going to send her, but I haven’t shipped it yet because I want YOU, Dear Reader, to have the privilege of reading it before ANYBODY ELSE, including the to-be recipient herself] Here it is, the third-class excuse I am going to use against Kathryn, thus dethroning her from her post as B-Dawg:

To: LipGlossGurl999@Outlook.com

From: DontWantNoStalkers@Yahoo.com

Re: B-Dawg and You

Hey there, Kathryn!!

This is the creator of B-Dawg speaking and I read the email that you sent me last night. I understand your decision to back out of the contest and wish you all the best for future endeavours.

 I remain,

A person you can reach out to,

B-Dawg

See?? It’s a stroke of genius, really. I’ve made it sound like as if Kathryn has sent me a message saying that she doesn’t wish to be B-Dawg and I’ve replied accordingly, though, of course, no such eMail was received on my part.

Which is about as low as a person/dog can go.

But if it will give me the chance of working at a paper that half of America reads, then I’m game. [As sad as that sounds]

 

Woof Humor

The Ninety-Seventh Bright Idea [Part Two]

I’ve just realised that although the previous post was titled the “Bright Idea,” I didn’t mention the Idea [bright or otherwise] in it. Which is what I’m going to do now.

You see, all I really need to do it go back in time to the minute I sent the e to Kathryn and warm myself against it. As that isn’t quite possible [trust humans to go around landing on the moon and cloning sheep but ignore the task of manufacturing a functional time machine!!], I’m going to do the next best thing;

Send another eMail to my foster sister stating that, although I recall mentioning in our previous correspondence that she could replace me as the nations preeminent advisor forever more, a few incidents have taken place that prevent me from handing her the title just yet.

Ugh, when I put it down on paper like that, it sounds like a totally unprofessional thing to do. But what other option do I have?? I CAN’T let her take my place, ESPECIALLY since The NewYorker is practically BEGGING me for a position on their staff. That would be INSANE. [Which is not a quality that I lack, -insanity, I mean- but COME ON!!]

I’m going to have to think of a new way out. Preferable one that won’t destroy my karma.

Woof Humor

The Ninty-Seventh Bright Idea

I’VE GOT AN ANSWER TO ALL MY PROBLEMS!!!!

Not ALL my problems, of course. I still have no idea how to magically morph into a two-legged creature so that I can appear for my Newyorker one-on-one, but other than that [and how I STILL haven’t sourced a catered who is willing to 1) bake dog-food 24/7 and 2) work for free], I’ve figured out how I can STILL be B-Dawg!!

And it’s a pretty low-down, uncouth way to do it. [It’ll be like telling someone they won the lottery and then saying, ‘Wait, you’re 679877653?? Sorry, I’m looking for 679877654. Looks like you didn’t actually win three million dollars… >Nervously Laughs<‘]

But what’s more important right now?? Making sure Kathryn’s emotional status is tip-top or saving my own butt from permanent damage??

 

 

Woof Humor

The Ninety-Fourth News Flash

I InstaMessaged Kathryn last night, stating that I was B-Dawg and that I’d picked up the lot with her name on it while trying to decide who to crown as, well, the next me. Every inch of my body warned me against clicking the “send” button. EVERY INCH.

But I did it, anyway. Because I’m a “good dog.” But you know what the funny part is?? Being “good” isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Sure, I don’t have to deal with a guilty conscience every morning. But I DO have to wait by the computer every single second of the day, waiting anxiously for a reply.

Which TOTALLY sucks.

I have WAY better things to do than crouch next to an Apple product 24/7. Like eating. Lots and lots of eating.

I could, in fact, really use a snack right about now.

But I daren’t risk it. I have to be there the SECOND my Yahoo notifications beep, signifying the entrance of new fresh mail into my inbox. Because I have to get it over with as quick as possible. I just HAVE to. I need to hand over the baton to my elder sibling and halt my professional career as an amazingly-popular advice columnist as FAST as my lump-of-a-body will let me.

>MacBook Pro Beeps<

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!! I’VE GOT A EMAIL!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Woof Humor

The Ninety-Third Resolution

I’m a lot of things [and not all of them are good].

But I am NOT dishonest.

Therefore I just HAVE to muster up the courage to send an e to Kathryn. Telling her that she, out of the hordes of teens with nothing better to do all summer than dish out advice to other teens who have nothing better to do all summer than to ask for advice from four-legged creatures [granted, they don’t know I’m four legged, but whatever], has won the privilege of following my footsteps and turning into the next life-mantra-giver-outer after Judge Judy.

And, let me assure you, there are TONS of things I’d rather be e-ing her about [like my irregular bowel movement] than the aforementioned news that I have to convey thanks to the dumb pang of guilt that I feel in the pit of my -enormous- tummy whenever I lie.

What is WRONG WITH ME?????????

Woof Humor

The Ninety-Second Choice

My brain and my conscience fought.

No, really fought. I was up all night, weighing the pros and cons of being honest and making Kathryn win.

Cons

1. My life could very well be finished if Mom and Dad figure out about this [which I’m pretty sure they are, considering how no one in this house is even allowed to use the loo without their permission]

2. I need someone of -how do I put this??- superior intellect to take over MY business. I mean, what if Kath manages to WRECK B-Dawg??

3. Think about all the hearts that will be shattered. And for what?? So that my can’t-think-beyond-the-next-Gucci-sale sister can start running B-Dawg??

Pros

1. I can co to sleep at night knowing that I did the right thing.

That’s about it. For THREE very valid, very DANGEROUS cons, I have one LOUSY, stinkin’ pro that I’m not even sure is qualified to be one in the first place. I mean, who even cares about CONSCIENCE these days??

That’s right. NO ONE.

So why should I?? [Care about it, I mean] Why should I always be the good one and play by the rules??

I’m telling you, being a dog in a world run by humans?? Sucks.

Woof Humor

The Ninety-First Shock

Imagine my surprise when I shove open the note on which the name of the person who will take over my very popular column is inscribed…

…Only to see KATHRYN’S name there. My SISTER, Kathryn. Who is now, officially, B-Dawg.

Only, she isn’t.

Because NO WAY IN HECK am I crowning her as the next B-Dawg. No WAY. It’s bad enough that I am a dog with a thing for blogging.

But being a dog with a thing for blogging AND a having family who knows all about it?? No thank you.

Because I can totally see what will happen if I let Kathryn win; The first thing she’ll do is tell Mom and Dad, and they’ll spend the whole night Googling B-Dawg and they’ll chance upon my blog and the next thing you know, I’m in a zoo filled with “special” animals like myself, writing for anyone who slips a fiver into my cage.

And that is SO what I want to do for the rest of my life.

Not.

I’m going to have to think fast and figure out what to do. I mean, when it comes to personal reasons, I have more than enough to realize that Kathryn is not becoming the next me [even the THOUGHT is revolting. How can my lipstick-obsessed sibling POSSIBLY be half as charismatic and sophisticated as MOI??].

But when I dig deeper, my conscience is telling me that, even though it may completely destroy my life, I should stick to the rules and tell her that she won, fair and square.

Over an eMail, of course. I couldn’t just TELL her face-to-face, for obvious reasons [one of them being that I can’t -ahem- speak].

Who knew that replacing myself would turn out to be such a heinous task????