To run or not to run, that is the question. Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune, Or to take arms against a sea of troubles, and by opposing end them? To paraphrase Billy Shakespeare.
Howdy folks. it’s me Danny, we spoke the other day. If you remember I was talking about my friend Andrew and how at times he made me sleep out on the deck of our boat. So today I’m here to talk about outrageous fortune. No, not the sleeping outside. Don’t tell Andrew, but I like it. Feeling the ocean breeze on my fur, smelling the salt water; it’s good for a dog, and let’s face it I am a dog.
The outrageous fortune of which I speak is the insidious leash the sonavabitch makes me wear. I mean really, just because I’ve run away a few times he thinks I can’t be trusted. I’m a big boy, hell I’m ten years old for Christ sake! I can go out catting (excuse the expression) around at night and still make my way home all by myself.
So here’s my bitch. He doesn’t use a regular leash like any sane person would use. No, he’s gotta use a line from the boat, a twenty foot long line, or rope to you landlubbers out there. I mean it’s demeaning.
The other night we went to a local biker bar. Andrew doesn’t like going there because he’s a sissy and he thinks the bikers will beat him up. Me, I love the place because the biker girls always crowd around me and pet me and tell me how cute I am. I know that, but it’s always nice to hear, especially when it comes from women with multiple tattoos claiming they belong to Big Bear or Grunge or whomever. It makes me feel special.
So there we are, Andrew is sitting by himself, naturally, and I’m the star of the show with the females of the pack, naturally. Now, because Andrew does not trust me he has me tied to a post (it’s an outdoor bar). It was then that it happened. One of the girls, whose name was Suzanne, the prettiest girl in the bar that night, felt sorry for me and unclasped the leash. Well partners, I took off like a bat outta hell, but I didn’t go far. I just wanted to teach Andrew a lesson.
I ran around to the back of the bar and hid under a small tool shed, and there I stayed. I watched that fool Andrew walk around for hours calling my name. He passed within feet of me about a hundred times. And the best part was when it started to rain. I was high and dry and ‘ol Andrew was soaked to the skin. After about four hours, I felt sorry for the guy, and seeing as how it had stopped raining, I let my presence be known by one single bark.
To cut the story short, I miscalculated. I thought if I made him look for me and then showed up on my own, he would forego the damn leash. But it didn’t work out that way. Now I find myself tied up 24/7, unless I’m taking Andrew for a walk.
So, in conclusion to quote another great writer, Robert Burns, “The best laid schemes o’ Mice an’ Men, often go astray.”