Never attempt to outsmart a cat, for you will only embarrass yourself...Tonight we become reacquainted with some old friends. (Photo by J.M. Hilton)
posted by LuLu @ 11:59 PM
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~
Wednesday, May 09, 2007
Never attempt to outsmart a cat, for you will only embarrass yourself...Tonight we become reacquainted with some old friends. (Photo by J.M. Hilton)
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
- Arfing Eeek! What has this radio talk show host pr...
- LuLu finally has her sister Bleu Girl exactly wher...
- Meanwhile, Sammy Chan sews things up~ (Photo by J....
- A desperate Aunt Lucinda holds her niece hostage. ...
- "Morey the Mutt" continues tonight -- 5/11. Meanwh...
- Sammy Chan wants only the facts~ (Photo by J.M. Hi...
- While Chester Samoyed has become a turncoat? (Phot...
- Will Digby the demon save Lily's bacon? (Photo by ...
- Air Ace Burt Bismark wants Jade to join the Mile ...
- While LuLu tries to comfort Spencer, who fears th...
Subscribe to
Posts [Atom]
3 Comments:
Dateline: George Town, The British Cayman Islands...
Chantilly Khat stretched her siren's cry of a body the full length of a silk-lined cat bed, batted a pearl-studded catnip mouse about the white-tiled floor, then rose and slunk her elegant way out through a set of sliding glass doors onto a private beach, where Lester Lemming sat, gnawing on a piece of seaweed, while staring despondently at the sparkling blue waters of the Caribbean.
"I sometimes wonder if being a corrupt, power-mad megalomaniac is truly worth it," he muttered redundantly. "By the time he was my age, my father had already rushed to the sea and made his fatal plunge. Lester, I sometimes say to myself, what the hell are you waiting for?"
Chantilly rolled her magnificent golden eyes. Oh, not this again! Not the fated-lemming sob story.
Thank Bast I'm a cat, she told herself, and totally self-contained. Who cares what happened to my father or my mother? They certainly never gave a thought to MY welfare.
She, of course, had given plenty of thought to the matter.
Chantilly had crawled out of a sewer only a couple of years before. She'd been a flea-bitten, unrefined bit of scrap and bone. Now she was the most recognizable feline actress on the planet, and the girlfriend of multi-billionaire mover, shaker (and occasional squealer) Lester Lemming.
Sadly, dear old Lester was becoming a bore.
Story continued below...
Story continued...
The little rodent finished his seaweed snack and lapped a few drops of water from an ice-filled silver bowl that had once belonged to a Chinese empress.
"Why did we have to move to the Caymans?" he asked her for the hundredth time. "You know I do better in colder climates, and this sunblock I have to wear makes my coat greasy."
Chantilly yawned. "Lester, you have a financial empire to run and money to launder, and your hair doesn't look any worse than Donald Trump's -- or Cate Blanchett's, for that matter. Besides, the Caymans are far more fashionable than Vilnius, Lithuania, ever was."
He turned his beady gaze on her. "Is it wrong for a rodent -- a humble former book editor -- to want to be the next Augustus?" he asked her. "Or the next Charlemagne, Napoleon, or a militant Mickey Mouse?"
Languidly, she began to clean herself. "Not at all, Lester," she assured him. "You're a brilliant mammal, and completely worthy of the great destiny you've planned for yourself."
Had Mrs. Bill Gates hever had to put up with this kind of crap? Chantilly wondered. Had either Mrs. Warren Buffett?
But then, famous and glamorous although she might be, Ms. Khat was not yet Mrs. Lemming.
"Are you still taking the pills Dr. Marten prescribed for you?" she asked sweetly, purring softly, just the way he liked it. If the pills and the heat didn't knock Lester out soon, she thought with a shudder, he'd be climbing all over her with his fur-covered feet.
"I don't think they're doing any good," he complained. "I'm constantly depressed and now I've got a heat rash on my privates."
Chantilly's cell phone rang just as Lester's tiny head drooped. He started to snore, and she padded off down the beach to take the call.
"I'm here," piped up a female voice. "We had to abort the mission at the last minute."
"Don't worry," said Chantilly. "All they did was win a battle."
"But we lost Lucinda."
"You mean she's dead?"
"It's a rather long story."
"Come over tonight after Lester's in his cage. You can have one of the guest mouse holes. I'm the only one who ever keeps an eye on them. Lester has hated associating with other rodents ever since his psychiatrist convinced him he was a German shepherd in a past lifetime."
"Any progress with the old pseudo gerbil?"
"None worth reporting, but don't worry. He and I will get married someday soon -- and then I'll have him for dinner."
Story compliments of the Fly on the Wall~
The Eye On The Park...
Dateline Lincoln Park:
"War!" barked the little BT, who identified himself only as Radnor the Recluse, a former Dogged monk from somewhere in Iowa. "The Boxers are rebelling in Minnesota, and this means war."
Radnor's theme song, "How Much Is That Doggie In The Window," blared from every radio in Lincoln Park, followed by a commercial for Sushi-Siam Dog Chow.
"What does it mean?" Bleu Girl asked her sister LuLu the Beagle. "Why are the Boxers rebelling in Minnesota?"
"I don't know," arfed LuLu. "Maybe because they couldn't rebel in South Dakota? I once knew a Timberwolf from St. Paul and a Basset from Brainerd, but never a Boxer."
Blue Girl frowned. "I hope this won't affect Young Blue Eyes' national tour that's planned for next month. Minneapolis is on the list."
"Are you planning to go with him?" LuLu asked her.
"Of course! We're semi-engaged, after all. I believe the term is..."
"Bitch shagging?"
Bleu Girl's hackles rose. "Oh, gag me with a choke collar! Don't tell me you're turning all pure and moral after the life you've led? You've probably counted more bones than an anatomy class!"
LuLu turned back to her computer. "It wouldn't hurt you to get a job, Bleu. I may have enjoyed my share of puppy lovers, and even rolled over for a few old hounds -- but I've always been able to pay my own way. You've had to rely on your boyfriends -- or on ME."
Radnor the Recluse came back on the air. "This just in, Lincoln Park! The Boxers have decided it's time for Minnesota to secede from the Union. Further, all show dogs from the North Star State have been called back home to serve in the army."
"WHAT?" howled LuLu and Bleu in unison.
There was a bark outside the pet door, and a palace Dobie stuck his head inside. "LuLu? Can you spare a few minutes to meet with King Rockie?"
LuLu hopped off her chair. "I always have time for Rockie," she said, rather smugly, her sister thought.
"Give him my regards!" barked Bleu Girl with a saucy toss of her ears. "You might tell him I'm engaged while you're at it."
LuLu had to grace to igore her.
Rockie was waiting outside in his limousine. "Let's walk," he suggested as she was about to climb inside. "I need to smell the goose poop."
LuLu was taken aback by the look in his eye and the set of his muzzle. "You seem awfully serious," she said. "Don't tell me it has to do with that uprising in Minnesota?"
He nodded and took both her forepaws in his own. "It's a serious situation, LuLu. Very serious, indeed."
Developing...
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home