Welcome to My Essays
(First I heard about a luxury hotel for rich people’s pets, then I heard Leona Helmsly left $12,000,000 to her dog. I think they said it was a Maltese Falcon. Anyway, it inspired me to write this letter to all the hoity toity dog show types in the world.)
Dear stuck-up, prim and proper, snobby erudite, Mrs. Hoity Toit,
You who spend $20,000.00 on a show dog and a $1000.00 a week getting their toenails painted and their hair coiffured. You who make your male poodle look like a flaming queen. You know who you are. If you have to board your dog, it stays at a fancy hotel with a tv and phone service, even though the dumb animal isn’t going to use the phone or watch the tv. It would probably be happier in a regular kennel with other dogs to bark at and sniff. But that would be beneath you.
And then, after you spend all that money on your precious Foo Foo, the first chance it gets, it’s going to roll on something dead, lick itself, and sniff somebody‘s crotch, embarrassing you worse than your husband when he wore brown socks with a black suit.
So, if you don’t want to be embarrassed, you better keep your dog on a short leash, you know, like you do your husband. Who, by the way, the first chance he gets will roll on something dead, lick himself, and sniff somebody‘s crotch.
I had a friend who got a job as a meter reader back in the seventies, when he had to go into people’s backyards to read their meters. His first day on the job, he was in one of the backyards, when he noticed huge, muddy paw prints almost to the top of the glass patio door. He looked around the yard and saw the same large tracks everywhere. He didn’t see a dog, so he quickly read the meter and began to walk toward the back gate. He heard the patio door opening behind him and with two steps he covered the last fifteen feet to the fence and leaped over the gate without opening it. He landed on his back and laid there in pain. He saw the gate open and a lady looked down at him and asked if he was okay. He just looked at the open gate and tried to sit up. He asked, “Where’s your dog?” She said, “Oh, he died.”
I used to go to a church that had testimony nights. One night this pretty lady, who seemed perfectly normal up to that night, when she stood up and said that God told her in a dream that all of her 27 cats would be in heaven with her and she had such a comforting peace now. I never heard a charismatic church get so quiet, so fast, with so many people in it. I never did see that lady again. I don’t know if they killed her or just asked her not to come back. Most churches don’t won’t animals in the church so they sure don’t won’t them in heaven.