Four-Legged Foes
This post originally appeared in “Adri’s Sanitarium” on June 23, 2008. -------------------------------------------------- Just sit back and relax and I’ll tell you all about it. Don’t even move a muscle, my friend; I’ll do all the work from here on out. They say Old Dick Nixon couldn’t coax a dog anywhere within ten feet of where he stood. The mutts just didn’t trust him, had some kind of primal sixth sense that told their tiny, 72-ounce brains to stay the hell away. And Nixon’s handlers, well, they “interviewed” various and assorted dogs to see which one(s) could be tricked with the old “raw meat in the suit pants pocket” gimmick. The “winners” became famous, but at what price? Yeah, Tricky Dick and me: the both of us, stigmatized by our complete and utter lack of appeal to creatures that eat their own feces. You see, animals hate me. Me, I like animals – all sorts of animals, in fact – but in the end it makes no difference. There’s just n