[Dailydrool] Drool for FIZ and a classic story to cheer him up

[Susan Randolph]

Toby here ... sending super-drool to my pal and idol Fizban. He's a very 
cool guy, and I want him to feel MUCH better FAST (cause he's really 
worrying his poor slave). In his honor, I wanted to share a classic Daily 
Drool story (included in the book YOU HAD ME AT AHROOO -- has a photo of Fiz 
and Tasselhoff too). Okay, it's really a story by Fiz's brother, Tas, but it 
gives you a clear picture of how devoted their slave is...well, except for 
the lapse of judgment that prompted the story, but we know she learned her 
lesson and saw the error of her ways after this episode:

PW. TASSELHOFF'S BACON STORY

It is I, PIT Tasselhoff Burfoot C.G.C. (grand name, isn't it?), reporting in 
on my slave training duties. Last night I had an episode with my slave that 
required immediate training. In order to understand, you must first know how 
I have my slave trained to feed me. At all times there is a bowl of dog food 
available for me and my younger brother, Fizban, to dine on at our pleasure. 
Then, when the mom-slave comes home at night, she cooks bacon ends and puts 
the bacon and grease in a small bowl of dog food for us.

Well, last night the mom-slave got lazy and tried to put beef gravy on the 
dog food instead of cooking bacon. I don't know what she was thinking; 
obviously she wasn't thinking at all!! She knows I do not like gravy. I have 
never liked gravy. I will not eat gravy. It smells like the green peppers 
she puts in the roast when she cooks it--yuck, yuck, yuck. The mom-slave 
thought she could fool me by putting a little bit of roast beef on top of 
the gravy, thinking if she just got me started, I would eat it. Hmphh, what 
a stupid mom-slave I have. I would never fall for that. Of course I just 
picked the meat off the top and left the rest.

Then the mom-slave went downstairs, mumbling something that sounded 
suspiciously like "you'll eat it if you get hungry enough." Of all the 
nerve! So after hours and hours and hours and hours and hours (you get the 
idea) of not eating and giving Mom "The Look," she finally relented. She 
went back upstairs and threw out the dog food covered in gravy (Fiz didn't 
eat his either; I told him he better not or we would never get the slave 
properly trained). Yippee!! Time for bacon, right? NO! The lazy, lazy slave 
opened up two cans of canned dog food and gave each of us one. Canned dog 
food? Not only was it canned dog food but one measly little can? How is a 
hound to survive!! Well, I ate the canned dog food; I was, at this point, 
close to wasting away from starvation. But I knew that my slave needed some 
serious training; this kind of thing simply could not be allowed.

So I waited until 2:30 a.m. It was easy to do; my little brother, Fiz, 
snores and keeps me awake all night anyway, but the mom-slave was sound 
asleep. First I went to the kitchen and got a mouth full of the dry dog food 
and took it to the hallway and spit it out all over the carpet. After all, 
plain, dry dog food is okay for nibbling on in the middle of the day but is 
not a true food source. Besides, I wanted to make sure the mom-slave was 
totally aware of the error of her ways. Then I went back to the kitchen, sat 
down next to the food dishes, and started to cry at the top of my lungs 
until the mom-slave woke up. After she stepped on the dog food in the 
hallway and yelped (serves her right, gravy?), she came in to see what the 
problem was (at least she remembered that part of her training). As soon as 
she turned on the light, I started slamming the small, empty dog dish 
against the base of the counter with my nose. The mom-slave finally realized 
she was not going to get away with this and did what she should have done to 
begin with. She cooked bacon. If she had just done it when she came home, 
she wouldn't have had to do it at 2:30 in the morning. I bet it will be a 
while before she tries to pass off gravy on me again!! Sigh . slave training 
is such hard work!!

***

We're hoping the vet-people take care of poor Fizban's post-surgical pain so 
he can enjoy a properly catered meal again SOON! Feel better buddy!

Toby (and Daisy)
(See www.fortheloveofdog.net to order your own copy of YOU HAD ME AT 
AHROOO -- all proceeds split between BROOD and House of Puddles)