Barking Up the Wrong Dog


There are not many things people in this country can agree on. And while some would vehemently counter this statement, most homo sapiens see that there is one problem in our society that needs to be fixed: stray dogs. These dogs are tearing the fabric of our society apart like it’s a rubber chew toy. Simply look at the streets of a major city. What do you see? Large sodas, some fat people, diabetes, amputees, funerals, completely normal and like skyscrapers, above all, expected.

Yet, there is something running amok in the city streets. Not just running, barking too. And chasing cars and cats and male men. These vermin illustrate a troubling aspect of city livin’. They represent the decline of American cities from the gold standard to a slightly lesser carat of gold. No one wants to see dogs probing each other’s assholes or shitting on American values and sidewalks. Yet there are two sidewalks to every story. Some people claim that stray dogs give a city character, similar to way a car crash or a group of burn victims streaking does. These sociopaths argue that without the stray dogs in our city, it would be become empty and barren, like an infertile woman’s ovaries. Yet unlike infertile females, average people would not be able to handle the loneliness and would get more shell shock than an electrified beach. However, these people fail to consider the fact that stray dogs are gross and smell bad.  Also, they leave their shit all over the place. These dogs cause more problems than they solve (and because these dogs are so stupid, they don’t solve many problems).

A common joke goes “what do dogs and trees have in common? They both bark”. However, this is not the only similarity. If you give dogs ground, they will walk all over you (just like trees for that matter, i.e treebeard at Isengard). If we want our city to be among the greatest there is and ever will be then we need leaders who aren’t afraid to make cuts, like Bris Christie. Other politicians like Andrew Weiner know when to throw us a bone and will not phone it in handling something this hard. We set out to work on a plan to fix this problem by fixing the male dogs. Yet the animals were tipped off of our plan to cut their tips off. We then decided to make our solution more permanent. They say you can’t teach an old dog a new trick, but what about teach an old dog an old trick, the oldest trick of all? Death. Under the advice of famous cat activist, Stevens, a plan was soon devised to deal with these canines.

Like when I stood above my chess set or the clouds of a medieval skirmish, this took place over night. Yet an insider source informed the dogs of our plot. Theese dogs knew prostitutes weren’t the only thing going down that dawn. They had seen ahead in this tale and knew they must act proactively. Taking a page from Spartacus’ book (the librarians were pissed), the stray dogs enacted a massive slave rebellion, assembling the straynines and organizing a coup. But unfortunately they bit off more than they could chew. They were all massacred by a group of ninjas from the future and their bodies were thrown into the river and burned.


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