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Commentary

Published on November 5th, 2015 | by Flipside

0

A Message from All Dogs: Fuck this Fireworks Bullshit

To all humans everywhere,

Every day we dogs, of all breeds and sizes, bring companionship to the not-too-desperately single and couples in that awkward “Sooooo… babies?” stage of their relationship. We do this in a way of life that has stood for millennia: chasing sticks and bringing them back, hating all postmen and ex-boyfriends, faking double takes when we know sticks clearly haven’t been thrown, and not liking the look of that human on the television who what did the naughties with that pig.

And yet what do we get as a reward? A place to stay with food, shelter and water, granted. Oh, and the privilege of taking a shit literally anywhere and getting it picked up. That’s pretty cool.

But our lives are not fair because you human peeps hate us. You know it, and I know it. Remember it well. I mean, we can’t remember much else. Like, seriously, where has my long blanket gone? I was chewing it yesterday, then woke up this morning and someone had replaced it with two smaller blankets.

Humans play cruel tricks on us all the time. You delight in dogs being terrified, like that cartoon one who keeps getting scared by paedophiles dressed as ghosts. There’s nothing on TV for dogs anymore. Remember Clifford the Big Red Overlord Canine Mutant Dog Freak of Doom? Yeah, you don’t see him anymore.

But the cruellest prank you play on us is on the 5th of November every year, where you all set off fireworks to piss us off.

We have sensitive hearing for a reason, you fucking morons. And we even help you out with it. Remember the time your parents came to visit on New Year’s Day when you were blind-arse drunk asleep with that Spanish exchange student? Yeah, we warned you about that, didn’t we? Remember when we heard the first part of the theme from The Archers and barked until you turned it off? Helped you out there, bro.

Yet after all this, you still have to set off their fucking explosions for no discernible political reason to canine scholars, and this is now the time. We’re fed up.

I am declaring war.

From this moment on, we have committed to the Canine Allied Takeover protocol, aka Operation C.A.T. (Yes, we know it’s not the best acronym. The dog generals in the 50s loved to take the piss.)

Tonight, we do what we must. We shall drag hoses across fireworks until the powder moistens. We shall nudge fireworks towards neighbours’ gardens at the last second. We shall shit literally everywhere.

We shall show you that on 5th November 2015, we will not tremble under the table with a blanket listening to Regina Spektor. We will fight. Until humanity passes this completely pointless annual tradition of giving Michael Bay a boner every time he looks at the sky, we shall make you lives an utter misery.

You have picked up our shit, but this time we aren’t taking any.

Your Kanine Komrad,

Fenton Pudsey Bones III Esq.

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