LuLu's Desperate House Dogs (formerly the Bow Wow Blog)

LuLu's Desperate House Dogs is a blog about an eccentric little Beagle named LuLu, who, along with her sister Sadie (a Whippet/Terrier/Beagle blend), writes the lurid Puppies in Lust series, and absorbs local color in an idyllic, off-the-leash, canine-centered village known as Lincoln Park~

Sunday, April 01, 2007

 Shamus O'Possum is back and on the run again. Play possum, Shamus! Play possum! (Cartoon by A.G. Oscard) Posted by Picasa

posted by LuLu @ 9:35 PM 

4 Comments:

Blogger LuLu said...

From the secret files of "the fly on the wall" ...

"You know," said Shamus O'Possum, "I'm really not much of a swimmer, and there's something most unpleasantly fishy about this lake."

Jade Jardine, dog-paddling alongside him, arfed in the affirmative. "The smell is terrible tonight, and look at all the dead fish on the surface."

She pawsed. "Oh! Oh, my Dog!"

Shamus looked at her in alarm. "What's wrong? It's not a shark, is it?"

"Why, I have my sense of smell back!" she howled with delight.

"Oh? To tell the truth, I hadn't realized you'd lost it in the first place, but congratulations just the same."

He blinked his eyes as a beam of light struck him full in the face. "What the mulch is that?"

"Duck!" barked Jade.

"Pekin or Mallard?" Shamus asked her, as he swallowed a pint of lake water and an almost equal amount of sand.

A shot rang out, more or less answering his question.

"Are you all right?" Jade asked a moment later.

"Yes," Shamus answered. "I've been in tougher spots than this. The problem is, I'm always in spots like this. How far is it to shore? That bullet missed my nose by about an inch."

Another one came even closer.

"Swim zigzag!" woofed Jade. "And follow me!"

Another shot rang out, but it was well off the mark.

"I think we're out of range," Jade arfed a few minutes later, "but I also hear a boat starting up. Let's swim toward the marina. Think you can make it?"

"What choice have I got?" asked the paddling 'possum. "Wait. Something's coming toward us. It ... it looks like some kind of log."

"Guess what, genius?" piped up a voice Jade instantly recognized. "The coast guard has arrived!"

"George!" howled Jade. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, taking my life in my paws per usual, sweetie cheddar," he replied. "Now, listen up. There's not much time! Get down and hold on to the sides of the log. I'll row us back to shore."

"Isn't that a sugar spoon you are using for an oar?" asked Shamus, sounding hesitant.

"You want to question my methods, pal? Yon motorboat is almost upon us."

Story continued below...

9:59 PM  
Blogger LuLu said...

Story continued...

Jade and Shamus ducked.

The rat paddled.

The motorboat paused; a light illuminated the floating log. The mammals on the boat saw nothing more unusual than a water rat with a silver spoon in his paws out oaring.

George pretended nonchalance.

The boat chugged past them.

A few minutes later the log was safely tucked amidst a small fleet of boats in the local marina. The three animals disembarked and swam the short distance to shore.

"George, I can't thank you enough!" barked Jade.

"Don't get all cheesy and grateful. I plan on sending you a bill. Now, ears perked," insisted George. "It's easy for a rat like me to take it on the lam and hide. After putting up with centuries of discrimination, hiding's one thing we rats know how to do well. But you two have to get out of town, and I mean pronto."

"But I just got here," Shamus protested. "You see, my literary agent was supposed to set up a bus tour for me, but instead she..."

"Can it, 'possum! Do you want to wind up with a dozen bullet holes in your carcass, or do you want to take a smart rodent's sage advice?"

"It was a three-state bus tour," Shamus went on ungratefully. "She even promised groupies -- or was it 'groupers'? Oh, I've got fish on the brain!"

"What do you suggest, George?" Jade asked her unlikely hero.

"I got a cousin who drives a cab," said George. "He'll be here in a minute and he'll take you two out to the airport. Got any money?"

"I carry my Marsupial One card everywhere," Shamus assured him with a touch of hauteur. "What's in your wallet, pal?"

The rat ignored him. "Tell the woodchuck at the information desk that you want two tickets to just about anywhere. Got it?"

Jade nodded. "Two tickets to just about anywhere."

"Go there and wait until you get the squeak."

Shamus blinked. "What the leaf mold are you talking about?"

"I understand," Jade told the rat.

"Glad you do," said Shamus. "Remember, this dude is a rat."

"That kind of thinking makes for intolerance," Jade growled. "George saved our lives!"

A cab pulled up and a large rodent wearing a purple turban and a Che Guevera T-shirt stepped out.

Shamus hissed. "Sheesh! Don't tell me this is your cousin?"

"What'd you expect, 'possum -- a Doberman wearing Dockers?" asked George. "Now GO...and don't look back."

Jade and Shamus climbed into the cab. They did not look back.

A minute later George the rat was on his cell phone.

(We'll keep on buzzing...)

10:26 PM  
Blogger LuLu said...

From the secret files of "the fly on the wall"...

Moxie Rothschild and Roquefort roared down the highway on his brand new BMW motorcycle on his way to Lincoln Park International, where his private jet was being prepared for takeoff.

Onboard amenities included a two-tub stainless steel bathsink, with a connecting exercise pen and pooper parlor; a stereo DVD; a satellite phone, fax machine -- and a pretty Yorkie flight attendant named Daphne.

Not exactly a blue-collar existence, thought Mox, and really kind of an amazing success story for a dog who was raised by the gypsies and didn't have so much as one AKC registration paper to his name. Seriously not bad for a Cavapoo who still had a couple of days to go before celebrating his first birthday!

Moxie remembered the day he'd first turned up in idyllic Lincoln Park. It was June, 2006, and he had hitched his way to town on the back of a dog-food truck.

He'd come to Lincoln Park looking for his birth mom, who turned out to be none other than Cavalier King Charles supermodel Lily Hilton. Lily, whose beautiful face was stamped on can after can of Sushi-Siam dog food, lined up on supermarket shelves across the country.

Lily, who wasn't the least bit interested in the half-poodle puppy she'd cast aside months before.

Sometime later, in a different part of the world, his father, the Duke of Rothschild and Roquefort, had proven more willing to accept him --had been eager, in fact, for an heir to the vast R&R fortune.

Now Moxie the Cavapoo was a duke-in-waiting, a handsome hot dog who was considered one of the most eligible canine bachelors on earth, right up there with Fideaux Bluetick, Sir Snoopy Peanuts' great-grandson -- and George Alopekis, heir to the Greek Schipperke fortune.

It was a joke, really, though Moxie. One of the most eligible dogs on earth? He didn't even have a date lined up for his birthday!

Story continued below...

12:42 AM  
Blogger LuLu said...

Story continued...

Mox thought about his first love, Sydney the blue-eyed Aussie shepherd. She'd been his paw candy for weeks, but he'd cheated on her with Queenie, a royal Corgi. Now Syd was leash-locked to Senator Paco, and Queenie was sharing a crate with international attorney Handsome Dan the bulldog, Dacia the Schnauzer's ex. No grass grew under their paws, he concluded wryly.

Moxie leaned forward, adjusted his goggles. There had been plenty of bitches after those two. In particular he remembered Zelda, a wild child of a poodle from Holland -- and Mata, a Stabyhoun with a pound record as long as a two-hundred dollar custom-made retractable.

Then there was Bleu Girl, his friend LuLu's little sister. A flirtatious Beagle bitch who had managed to steal his heart along with his favorite bones. Now she was involved with that popular howler Young Blue Eyes, Sydney's cousin, no less. How ironic, thought Mox. How almost incestuous.

The handsome Cavapoo blinked. Was it raining? No, the rain had stopped. Somehow moisture must have accumulated on his goggles. He blinked again, and suddenly swerved as a big yellow taxi tore past going at least eighty on a two-lane road.

Wait a minute! That looked like...

A horn blasted, and he swerved again. A black mariah of a car whipped past with a pack of Borzois inside. Trench coats, dark glasses. It was night, for Dog's sake! Who were these mutts? They looked like a bunch of gangsters, or spies for Wal-Mart.

His thoughts returned to the cab. He'd recognized someone. The large but delicately featured face, the gray-brown eyes, the snout once insured by Lloyd's of London.

It was his adopted sister -- Jade Jardine. Jade in the back of a cab with a 'possum? Jade being chased by Borzois?

Mox tracked the taillights of the black mariah, and pawed down. "Time to Hunter S. Thompson it," he woofed aloud. Maybe his first birthday would prove far from boring after all.

(Bzzzz.)

12:58 AM  

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