A completely fictional… ah, forget it.

Dude, I could be funny here. If the internets weren’t so goshdarned… public, I could be hella funny. I could let loose with a string of ridiculous parodies that would make your head spin.

Except… the public thing. What happens on the internet does not in fact stay on the internet. Or it does, but that doesn’t help anything, since it goes viral. It’s tough to write any other posts, because the big thing in my life right now is this giant, ridiculous aspect. It’s kinda taking up far too much of my brain right now. I can fictionalize the ridiculousness, and I do, but that doesn’t help this blog, since the veil here is too thin. So what do I post here?

A Fictionalized Account of the Worlds in My Dog’s Ears

My dog has big ears. You hear that phrase, and you get a picture in your mind, but truly, your regular, man-sized brain can’t truly conceptualize the size of my dog’s ears. Each one is the same size as the rest of her head. When she looks up and perks her ears forward, it’s like looking at the top half of a six-pointed star.

Like anything else with dogs, they’re bigger on the inside. I am the Dr. Who of the canine world, because I am her master. Inside, there is a whole little factory of doozers erecting strange scaffolding and building little triggers and booby traps into the hidden nooks and crannies. These are to protect the community further in. That community I don’t know much about. It’s too deep and dark in there. All I know is what I can see near the surface.

The first line of defenses is a water sensitive strip. It’s the same mottled paper from cellphones that turn muddy and flat when water touches them. This one also starts to run straight onto the sensitive skin of the inner ear, burning like a stream of fire from the third sun of Hades, causing my little dog to buck, and shake, and essentially flip the heck out.

This strip actually activates in the simple presence of water. A shower turned on in the same house, a stream crossing barely covering the paws, even a pier or bridge 1/4 mile above a bay can activate the vile, burning acid. Water is just a big no-no.

There are other defenses, as well. Trip lines that lead directly to the lip area, forcing a happy, smiley face into a street dog I’m-gonna-tear-your-nose-off snarl. Those perhaps will be saved for another day of trying to avoid the ridiculous.


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