Will Digby the demon save Lily's bacon? (Photo by J.M. Hilton)
posted by LuLu @ 12:26 AM
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~
Monday, April 16, 2007
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~
About Me
- Name: LuLu
I am a single five-year-old female Beagle, shown here by myself, while my mix-up of a sister sings the praises of mutts on my blog. Well, let her. I have a most intriguing (one might even say lascivious) past, at least according to my autobiography. In a former lifetime I was Queen Elizabeth the Ist of England, and later on (among others) I was Nell Gwynn, Pauline Borghese, Louise Brooks, and eventually just lovable, neurotic, adorable ME. I have a perfectly charming, albeit very annoying, sister named Sadie. She's rarely plagued by conscience, possibly because she's a Sagittarius. To date she has attempted to steal most of my boyfriends, meaning we're quite used to fighting over bones. Sadie and I are the same age, although she's the adopted one. We do have a fair amount of things in common. For example, she was once Mary Queen of Scots, and later on both Barbara Villiers and Marlene Dietrich. Amazingly we get along -- at least when we're before the public~
Previous Posts
- Air Ace Burt Bismark wants Jade to join the Mile ...
- While LuLu tries to comfort Spencer, who fears th...
- "Easter is over, now where is my daughter?" deman...
- Meanwhile, in an upcoming installment of Morey th...
- Canine counselors gone wild? It's lawsuit time on...
- Moxie to the rescue? Jade Jardine is his sister, ...
- Shamus O'Possum is back and on the run again. Pla...
- ...is George the rat a rat with a heart of gold o...
- Sydney ties the knot with Senator Paco~(Photo by ...
- King Rockie declares spring official in idyllic L...
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From the secret files of the Fly on the Wall:
As Moxie's jet made a quick getaway from Lincoln Park International, a Borzoi named Alex raised a paw-held missile launcher and reached for the trigger -- which bit him.
"Aiii!" yelped the big dog, dropping the weapon on his front paw. "How could a trigger bite?"
"All things are possible in the brave new world of advanced technology," glibly commented George the rat, who then grabbed the missile launcher and aimed it at the stunned international assassin.
"Guess I'm the big cheese now, huh? The Chief of Cheddars? The Fuhrer of Fetas?"
While tacitly agreeing that the rat had best hold onto his day job and leave comedy to the pros, Alex and his Borzoi buddies all bit the dust, spat it out, rolled over and assumed the submissive position.
"Good boy, George!" barked Sam Ashmead, who came loping across the tarmac, his tail wagging like he'd just caught a tennis ball. "You've got to be our own local version of Mighty Mouse, eh?"
"Mighty RAT," the rodent rejoined.
"Sorry, pal, but that just doesn't sound right."
Spencer Hilton and Itza Hogg arrived on the scene with their teeth bared, weapons drawn, and nodded in agreement.
"How about Rugged Rat?" suggested Spencer, slipping his .38 Frisbee special back into his shoulder harness.
"Nah!" responded Itza, dropping a stiletto from his curlicued tail. "Sounds too much like RugRat."
"What about King Rat?" proposed Ashmead, but Spencer shook his head.
"Too many of those around already."
"You have a point my dog. You have a point."
"Do we have to lie here in the submissive positon all night?" snarled Alex the Borzoi. "This goes against every rule agreed upon at the Westminster Convention."
"Da!" growled one of his buddies. "This is torture! It is worse than being blow dried by some baby-talking old-lady handler who then tries to paint your toenails fire-engine red! Give me Abu Ghraib any day!"
The Borzois all howled in agreement.
Story continued below...
Story continued:
The rat raised the missile launcher. "Any other complaints, gentle mutts?"
"Want us to sing while we're lying here?" asked Alex, thumping his tail like a junkie on a conga drum.
"The Song of the Volga Boat Hound is a big hit with just about everyone," added his buddy. "How about we hum a few bars?"
"Shut the pound up!" barked Ashmead. "You inhumane mutts just tried to kill Jade Jardine, Shamus O'Possum, Moxie Rothschild and Roquefort, Burt Bismark, and a hot little Yorkie flight attendant named Daphne."
"Nyet!" howled Alex. "We tried to kill only Jade and that silly-assed possum. How hot is this Yorkie? Has she got one of those cutie-pie topknots?"
"You admit it!" oinked Itza. "You admit it! And I just recorded your confession!"
"Curses!" barked Alex. "Foiled again!"
"Say that in Russian," hissed Ashmead.
"Why?"
"So it will sound a little less like a cliche. Even we have our standards."
"You forgot about me!" cried George's cousin, the cabdriver, skittering across the tarmac with his swami turban askew. "Those canine Cossacks chased me all over the airport, too."
"Ahh, you're only a rat," snorted Itza. "Worse yet, you're a cab-driving rat."
The rodent took instant umbrage, clasp his paws to his chest, and rose on his hind legs.
"So I'm a rat cabdriver. Hath not a rat cabdriver eyes? Hath not a rat cabdriver paws, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions? If you prick a rat cabdriver, doth he not bleed?"
"OK, OK," said Itza. "But don't make me do the recording over. These digital gizmos blow my mind."
The Borzois began to howl the Song of the Volga Boat Hound.
Before they could get to the hip-hop version, Ashmead, Spencer, and Itza had them leashed, muzzled, and in the dogcatcher's van.
"I hope Monica and Marco are having our kind of luck," remarked Spencer. "So far, this caper has gone as smoothly as a good worming."
As the van pulled away, George turned to his cousin, who was busy turning himself back into a well-known political candidate.
"Thanks for the break, Cousin George. I needed that."
"Any old time," replied George the rat, smiling as his shape-shifting cousin effortlessly vanished in a puff of smoke.
He then did a quick paw-stand, shook himself off, and left the airport as Digby the demon.
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