Chubby the Dachshund


I work graveyards, so I usually wrap up my shift in the early morning and I had home in the wee hours…usually when everyone is just beginning to stir.  Nevertheless, at 8am or so, I am very groggy and desperately looking forward to heading home to gulp down a cup of joe or two before hitting the hay.

This is usually how I spend my mornings.

Today’s morning was a little more complicated than that and sleep didn’t occur right away.  First off driving home was a bitch.  Spokane traffic is horrible during the summer.  You could be two blocks away from your house and pass by four traffic crews, twelve drivers who don’t know how to signal, a bicyclist who prefers to weave down the center lane, and somehow, no matter what, you will still end up overshooting your house and ending up on the opposite side of the city.  A five-minute drive almost took me twenty and my ’87 Chevette doesn’t have very many twenties left in her.

It's true.

Needless to say I was in a less than stellar mood by the time I reached home, so when I opened the door to an apartment filled to the brim with purple haze I was quickly delivered to livid.  There, in plain view, was a chubby Dachshund strapped into a baby seat next to a passed out ferret after a late night of smokin’ the ganja, looping “Beat It” on vinyl, and playing Super Mario Bros. on my NES!  Mopey was softly snoring, yet twitching and muttering about Goombas.  I kicked him as I went by and he started to stir some more as I put my coat away.

As soon as Mopey straggled his was out his slumber I asked him to head into the office.  We needed to talk.  The whole time Chubby the Dachshund just laid in his car seat making wheezing noises and occasionally coughing which ultimately knocked over his ‘snorkeling’ gear.

After some ferret harassment, which might border on the illegal Mopey confessed that Chubby used to be a political campaign manager to Anthony Weiner and since the great Weiner debacle Chubby has been out of the job.  Chubby was raised in a single-parent household with thirteen other chubby Dachshunds’ and it has always been his dream to be a politician.  Because of Weiner’s wiener tweets it looks like Chubby’s dream is all but lost, so he called up his old college roommate, Mopey, hitched a ride to Spojakistan, and spent the night wallowing in copious amount of weed, alcohol, Michael Jackson vinyl, and NES classics in order to ‘forget.’

After such a sad tale and with Malicious the Gorilla living with Bradley now I decided to let Chubby stay as long as Mopey cleaned up the house and lit some incense.  As he scurried off to clean and tell a comatose Chubby the good news I plopped down on my bed.

“Damn it Mopey!  Who painted Che Guevara on my ceiling!?”

Betting on the Chihuahua Races


Today, I woke up groggy like most mornings, glanced over at my phone, which glimmered with a picture message icon that had been sent from an unknown number.  I didn’t think much of it at the time and I ended brewing some coffee, placing my annual Chihuahua racing bet for Cinco de Mayo upon Zoomie Schultz, and then started into some much-needed relaxation by slaying Goombas before I decided to check the message.  I couldn’t believe my eyes once I opened the message!  I’d describe the horror to you, but you’ll just have to see what I received in order to believe it.  Here’s the pic I received this morning on my mobile:

Enslaved Ferrets in a Mexican Jail Cell

Apparently, Hanz was in trouble and had sent me a last-ditch message pleading for his safety as well as the safety of others.  Luckily I know a guy, who knows a guy, who also knows a guy, who was able to help me out.  After a lengthy game of phone tag I eventually found out where Hanz and gone and what had happened.

Apparently, he ran off from my parent’s house shortly after a particularly terse argument with my sister Caitlin about how David Duchovny is NOT the greatest actor in the world.  This argument occurred yesterday morning, so he had only been on the prowl for a day or so.  This argument enraged Hanz and he had promptly ferreted off with his duffel bag and Orange Lantern, Lantern in paw to a supposed friend’s house.

Mopey Enraged After his Argument with Caitlin

Apparently while in Arkham he met another inmate who was liked-minded and was released just a tad earlier than Mopey.  His name is Mr. Peanut and he happens to be a crazed, health nut of a squirrel obsessed with ruing the day.

Mopey thought that he could trust Mr. Peanut because of the experience that they shared, but as soon as Mopey entered the squirrel’s abode he was abducted via drop down cage and quickly shipped off to Mexico for several pounds worth of peanuts and a canister of Whey Protein.  Now Mopey is residing in a Mexican prison cell on Cinco de Mayo with other enslaved ferrets that also thought they had made a friend with a macho squirrel named Mr. Peanut.

Mr. Peanut

Normally on Cinco de Mayo Hanz would make his traditional nine layer bean dip, watch and bet on the Chihuahua races at my parent’s house, and get liquored up like he always does.  The most trouble he’d ever cause was maybe peeing in a garden or two before collapsing into a pile clutching his empty box of wine and autographed picture of David.

The Annual Cinco de Mayo Chihuahua races at my parents house!

Mopey doesn’t deserve this!

Nevertheless, as I write this post my girlfriend and I are packing.  We’re going to Mexico, and we’re rescuing Hanz!  And, once we return it will be Mr. Peanut the Squirrel who will rue the day!

I wish we had Seal Team Six...