I want to hire a dog to sit and pant out my window while I’m driving my pick-up and while the pick-up is parked in various parking lots around the world.
The ad on Craigslist reads, “Wanted: one medium size dog to pant happily out the window and communicate an air of general love and friendliness to the planet. Will pay overtime. Must go home at end of shift.”
I don’t actually want a dog per se.
I just want to hire one for driving because I feel left out. Every car has a dog in it except mine. I tried putting my cat on the dashboard—it just wasn’t the same. I tried to get the cat to slobber and pant, just once.
“Just one trip to the grocery store, just once,” I said to Josephine. “Just once. I need this, I really really need this. Plea-eeese, please. Just this once.”
He just sat there and licked his ass.
Then he jumped down and killed the mouse that had been living in my car.
Then he gave me a look that said: when you bought me the words on the side of the can said C-A-T.
Then we had our usual silent stand off about why I’d named him Josephine.
There were so many dogs in so many parked cars the other day in Santa Fe I thought the dogs had finally evolved and were driving themselves to the mall in their owners’ cars—apparently they got tired of waiting for that weird pig’s ear shit and their rawhide bones and just drove themselves to PetSmart.
Then I had another thought: Jesus, are they selling dogs with cars now?
Shit I didn’t know that damn silent, hybrid-Toyota, golf-cart thing comes with a dog.
That explains a lot.
(Maybe Subaru can start up a similar campaign only with lesbians).
Next to them my jacked-up 4WD 1998 Toyota pick-up, with the uncooperative and deadly feline caterwauling LET ME THE FUCK OUT and throwing himself against the window, positively screams ME AND THIS NON-DOG CAT ARE CAUSING ALL THE GLOBAL WARMING. See the body count on my bumper sticker beside the I DROWNED INDONESIA placard that was awarded to me by the Republican controlled Congress.
Everywhere I looked was a dog, red, brown, big, small, yappy, stupid, stately, happy, angry, welcoming, defensive, furry and bald. Jesus fucking Christ where am I? When did I move to DogLand?
Bark bark…and what would they think if they knew I didn’t actually have a dog in my car….?
Did I have any cat fur on my face? On my clothes? Some blood from the tooth-gutted mouse that had spurted onto the back of my white T-Shirt and now spelled out: No dog—kill her!
It was a nightmare. It was surreal. Dogs on all sides.
I ended up putting my cloth grocery bag over my head and running into Whole Paycheck. Not to buy anything, just to hide there among the money and the fancy food. And to get away from my cat who obviously was trying to get me killed, not realizing he needed to grow some thumbs first so he could get out of the car once I was sufficiently dead.
Ha! I always knew I had the bigger brain!
Once inside, I cut some eye holes in the bag using some shears borrowed from the flower department, and I kept my eyes straight in front of me on the way to bathroom in case the dogs were also driving around in hybrid grocery carts.
Careening into the bathroom stall, sideswiping a genteel looking older woman who probably had six German Shepherds and a black Lab in her Land Rover outside, I sat there doing breathing exercises until I realized I could actually take the bag off of my head. It occurred to me all those dogs in all those cars in all those parking lots couldn’t possibly be real.
Was it just an APP? A virtual world APP generated through a Super-Smart iOS phone, unlike the Dullard iAAA (I am an ass) phone that I have. The Dog in the Car APP is for when Jack the Pit Bull is just too lazy to get out of his dog bed into the car because he hates hunting and thinks any vehicle means that soon he’s going to have to be chasing something down near the duck pond at 6am when he’d really just binge watch the Nature Channel on Netflix.
Yes I needed the Dog in the Window Panting APP for people who have slothful dogs and for whom a pet rock is pushing it. (Oh I wonder if they have a Pet Rock APP too so I don’t have to go outside and get my own, and then have to spring for one of those expensive leashes!)
My next task was to abduct someone’s Super-Smart phone, so I created a gun like weapon out of two toilet paper rolls, a magic marker and some old duct tape I found in my pocket, and then mugged the next person who came into the bathroom to get their iPhone. This took a while because my two initial victims had flip phones, which would have worked on the old Star Trek, but not here in reality.
Dragging the unconscious body of a twenty-five year old young woman with an iPhone 6s, into the stall with me, I made my next move. Now I could get the Fake Dog Walking Beside me APP with Bonus Dog Snout Out the Window APP so I could get back through the parking lot without the bag over my head (which had apparently had caused car accident earlier but because I couldn’t actually see it, I pretended it wasn’t happening). I downloaded it all in the relative safely of the bathroom. Now I could get back to my pick-up, proudly being someone who belongs to society AND, if my cat would actually back off and let me open the damn door and let me back into my vehicle, he wouldn’t even hate me for getting a dog because I had gotten an imagination instead.
I selected Sheltie APP from the menu and turned it on. Sheltie’s are beautiful, chipper, smart dogs with a great work ethic and a lot of energy and need lots of attention and interaction—perfectly wrong for me but with APP DOG it doesn’t matter!
That’s why I need a Dog APP; I’m too immature to actually have a dog because it would want to relate to me and do things and love me and go for walks and I’m just not having that in my life. Furthermore, in the late 1980’s I took Nancy Reagan way too seriously about her “Just Say No,” program and unfortunately autistically applied it to things it wasn’t meant for. It seemed harmless at the time.
You should see me with the instructions to my microwave.
The Laughing Coyote
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