I've Been Violated!

By Maxx Danielson

My life has been tough. Two months ago, my sister, brother, and I were separated from our mother and were taken to a strange place called the “pet ranch”. On our first day there, my brother disappeared, and then sissy vanished on the second. On the third, a nice couple picked me up and played with me for a long time, but then left me behind. Heartbroken and alone, I dreamed that better days lie ahead.

The next day, the lady from the couple came back and I ended up going home with her. (I overheard her tell the sales lady that her husband was out of town.) I was happy to be living in a nice home, except my adopted parents call me Maxx. Naming someone my size Maxx seems really stupid, but they insist that I was named for the protagonist Maxx Watts in my dad’s upcoming book. Even if it’s true, I still think it’s dumb. But you want to know something even dumber? My adopted niece is a big lab mix and her name is Minnie. She towers over me like the Goodyear blimp! Do you have any idea how many times Minnie and I have been laughed at because of our names? It’s humiliating!

Of course, I’d take humiliation any day over what happened next. Today, Mom and Dad dropped me off at the foo-foo center. Being four months old, I had no idea what to expect, so I greeted this apron lady with bubbly enthusiasm. All seemed fine until my parents left, and suddenly everything changed. In minutes, I was subjected to yet another bath, and as if that wasn’t bad enough, they started cutting my hair! Actually, cutting is an understatement because they shaved my privates! Clearly this is a violation, with emphasis on vile! When they finished, they dressed me in a camouflaged bandana, as though it would make me more manly. Dad and Mom laughed when they saw me, and no matter how much Dad loves me, he still calls me a foo-foo dog. (Mom disagrees, and since I’m in the middle, maybe someone can clear this up for me.)

I was really glad to get home, but my ears felt different without their hair, so I keep shaking my head. And my privates feel different, too, so I have to keep inspecting them. But worst of all, I have to drag my rear around because it feels really weird. Of course, Mom and Dad laugh at this, too, saying I look like a pull toy. I can only hope this humiliation stops in two months when I go to the vet to get tutored. Geez, there is still so much to learn!