Staying Comfortable in the Woods
November 30, 2000
Fellow campers,
On a sad note, our dog, Max, contracted some type of foaming mouth disease over the weekend, causing him to walk funny, droop in the midsection, sniff his scrotum a lot, sniff other dog scrotums a lot, whimper, pee, have bad breath, regurgitate, and worst of all, hump some of the strangely delighted female campers - something he has never done before.
After spending three days and a lot of money at the Vet, Max has been diagnosed with Canine Oral-Analytis, a serious but non-fatal disease of the mouth and respiratory system. Apparently this is caused when someone, attempting to be funny, sticks their butt in an unsuspecting animal's mouth, thereby causing an oral infection similar to gingivitis. The disease spreads quickly, causing the aforementioned symptoms and serious suffering for the frightened animal.
I have incurred some substantial debts because of this so-called joke that someone pulled on poor Max. If anyone in the vicinity of the Kevin Seidler's campfire on Saturday night noticed anyone else putting their ass in my dog's mouth, please let me know. I have an attorney looking into recovering costs and damages for mental suffering, emotional duress, loss of Max's services, and loss of normal conjugal relations. To date, I have evidence of one possible perpetrator, whom I won't name but he has two children named Austin and Steven. Mr. Funny Guy, as I will refer to him, was apparently seen putting his butt in Max's mouth while Max was attempting to sleep to the sound of wood being chopped. Mr. Funny Guy thought he could liven up the campfire crowd by traumatizing poor Max with the old 'Ass in the Dog Mouth' joke. The joke may have backfired just a little on Mr. Funny Guy because of Max's mild case of Ra! bi! es and Deer Tick disease (Yes, Max is a carrier. Get over it.) I figure by now, Rich, I mean Mr. Funny Guy, is twitching a little and having trouble controlling his limited motor skills. He may be feeling a little queasy and unable to spit because of severe dry mouth. He is probably getting signals through his dental fillings and making crop circles at the Delray U-Pick-'Em truck farm. Right about now, things aren't so funny for Mr. Funny Guy. Susie, I mean Mrs. Funny Guy, probably hasn't noticed any change from his normal behavior but she will. ("He never makes crop circles during the week! What's up with that?", she'll muse.) Maybe she'll wonder why he wants Alpo for dinner every night, scratches behind his ear with his foot, sniffs people he meets, and has a bad case of fleas. Then again, maybe she won't even notice.
Please pray for Max. I will update you on his condition as the information becomes available. Max doesn't need anything, except maybe a female camper or two to stop by. If Max could talk, I'm sure he would say, "Tell everyone I said thanks for their good wishes and the table scraps at the Gypsy Jamboree. Tell Mr. Funny Guy I know where he lives. Tell Mrs. Funny Guy she has a great leg." I can't help but feel that none of this would have happened if Ron Goode had been allowed to go camping. Things could have been different. So different.
November 30, 2000
10. Cost savings over having your ass pierced professionally
9. Preferable to the boring old "leg-hump"
8. Much more gentle than being bit in the ass by Steve
7. Much needed cash from lawsuit at Christmas time
6. Best piece of ass Max has had since Steve developed "that problem"
5. The pain
4. No chance of putting Ron's eye out
3. Discovered exciting twist to "doggie style" technique
2. Finally, a good excuse for that embarrassing scar
1. Through some metamorphosis, now limber enough to "do what dogs do".
Staying Comfortable in the Woods
