By Dash the Wonder Dog
Well, as you read in Uncle Bob’s post last week, my mom has gone and done it now. Her reckless behavior has resulted in the both of us being thrown in the hoosegow. Not just any hoosegow – a Turkish hoosegow. Although her intentions were good, she never should have used that photo without authorization. Sometimes I think she isn’t functioning with all her marbles, like when she forgets to feed me on time. All I know is that one moment I was relaxing in the lap of luxury on my leopard bed and the next thing I knew I was in a land far away, mingling with people (and dogs) who are far beneath my station in life. Do they not know I’m a Cavalier KING Charles? My mom keeps sobbing, something about “Midnight Express” and that her manicure is being shredded. She wants me to dig our way out of here. Seriously? Sister, you got us into this mess so you can just suck it up about your ruined gel polish and get to work. In the mean time, I will try to describe our conditions in this primitive place.
I must say that the people you meet in a Turkish prison are very solicitous. Really – they solicit everything. We have been asked if we’d care for cigarettes, chocolate bars or a brick of hashish. My mom jumped at the chocolate bar but I’m still holding out for a good antler bone. They seem to be in short supply. Unfortunately for me, several other detainees have brought their dogs along with them. Just like humans, there is a pecking order among us canines. At the top of the heap is Bad Eddie (photo right). I don’t know what he’s in for because I’m too scared to ask, but my guess is that he bit off the leg of a sultan. He rules this place with an iron paw and steals the meager rations from newcomers like me. I have tried my best to bat my big brown eyes at him but I think I gave him the wrong impression. Apparently I am not the first to learn that batting one’s eyes can result in becoming someone’s bitch, which is ridiculous because everyone knows I’m a male dog. Bad Eddie struts around the courtyard with his “posse” of Rottweilers and Poodles, acting like they don’t have to obey the rules. I have tried to instruct them as to proper etiquette, showing off my credentials as a Canine Good Citizen from PetSmart but I don’t think they’re impressed. One of them actually lifted his leg on me which just isn’t done in polite society. I think PetSmart could make a killing in this place.
Mom doesn’t seem to be adapting to our new circumstances. She keeps complaining about flies, rusty water and the sixteen other women sharing our 4×4 cell. I remind her that every minute that she spends complaining is another minute that she is not digging! Besides, in my personal opinion, I think the food here is doing her some good. I don’t like to be critical but those five pounds she packed on at Christmas are still hanging around her hips. Another few weeks in this place and I think she will be back in fighting shape. As for me, I’m doing my best to supervise her, keep Bad Eddie at bay and bribe the guards for some organic bison/mango treats. Hopefully by our next post all will be returned to normal – me lying on my leopard bed and mom resuming her manicure schedule. Sheesh! I hope she’s learned her lesson. I don’t think I can face Bad Eddie again.