Ted Cruz returned home from his jaunt to Cancun to discover in his absence that his house had been the victim of a leg-raising attack. Yellow streaks adorned the siding on the house.
“What the hell?” hollered Cruz as he walked up his driveway.
He swiveled around and yelled at his security guard, “Glen! What the f*** happened here? I thought you were supposed to be watching the place!”
“Uh,” Glen stammered as he hurried toward the house and squinted. “What is that yellow stuff, Senator?”
“That’s dog piss, you moron. You mean to tell me you didn’t notice any dogs prowling around my house, raising their legs?”
“Uh, no, sir, can’t say as I did. I mostly sat in my car, like you said.”
Cruz later discovered that Snowball, his white fluffy, desperately lonely dog, used the family’s desktop computer to post a worried screed on ButtBook®, the social networking site for dogs.
The post read: “Help me! I’m freezing my ass off. My peeps went off to Cancun and left me all alone in this god-forsaken mansion. It’s colder than my daddy’s heart. BTW, my daddy is Ted Cruz. Yes THAT dumbass. Please come on over to my house and raise your legs in solidarity around the entire perimeter. We’ve got to send him and others like him a message that family pets are not to be abandoned in the freezing cold with only one guard sitting in his car to watch out for us. Not acceptable.
“They should have hired someone to bundle up and come be with me. You’d think I was some kind of robot dog or something, for all they did to make sure I was OK. I had nobody to talk, nobody to play with, and the pee pad they left for me was all soaked up in a day. No dignified dog I know wants to pee or poop in his own home. My bladder and bowels are killing me. What kind of monsters are they, anyway? Why didn’t I see that before? Even the daughter. I thought she was my friend, but no. I swear, as soon as they open the door again, after it’s warmer, of course, I’m outta here!”
Fifty-seven neighborhood dogs answered the yellow call to come stream the house. Black, brown, white, short-haired, long-haired, svelte, portly, pampered, mangy — they all trotted up to the house and left their signatures.
“That ought to piss him off,” barked Victor the Vizsla, as he shook his hind leg.
“Ha-ha,” voiced Patty the Poodle. “Piss on him. Dogs are people, too!”
“This is fun,” growled Pete the Pit as he stopped and shook himself all over. “We should do it more often!”
And so it came to pass on April 3, with daffodils in full bloom, that a small white tag-less dog trotted up to the Houston Humane Society and barked at the back entrance.
“Welcome, Snowball,” said the young veterinary assistant, as she opened the door. “We’ve been expecting you.”
Rosie Sorenson is a humor writer in the San Francisco Bay Area. You can contact her at: RosieSorenson29@yahoo.com.
From The Progressive Populist, April 1, 2021
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