A small television studio illuminates slowly to reveal a Shetland sheepdog and collie mix. His neat white paws are crossed with some reserve on the wooden desk in front of him. To his left, a tall glass of water. To his right, an uneven stack of white paper that nearly reaches the tips of his velvety ears. Behind him an "On Air" sign lights up in a dusty red.
Yellow text begins scrolling slowly up the screen.
I'm Patches. Good evening.
For many years I have been a good boy. When you called I came. When you threw a stick or ball I returned it no matter how repetitive and puzzling the task became. When you switched to No Name brand bacon treats, I whimpered not.
However, the Santa hat with elastic chin-strap of Christmas 2009 was the straw that broke the camel's back so to speak. Now, I know I am not a camel, and am in fact, a noble canine. Once, you also knew this, but your behavior of late leads me to believe you have forgotten, and consider me instead to be a plaything for you to dress in pomp and frills. The stack of paper you see to my right is filled with cries of outrage from fellow-tail waggers. I pray what you read tonight will make you conscious of your actions and move you in ways rhetoric cannot.
1. The little pink booties you force on my paws make me want to nip at your fingers. keep it up and by God I will.
Buddy. Golden Retriever. Cape Cod.
2. I did not pee in your closet. YOU peed in your closet. Have you forgotten last Wednesday night when you returned home reeking of whiskey and shame?
Ralph. Bulldog. Calgary, Alberta.
3. Why am I always a "good boy" and never a "great boy?"
Maurice. Chocolate Lab. Mississauga, Ontario.
4. The lavender jacket with fur-lined hood you insist I wear is emasculating. Why is my god-given coat not good enough?
Rocky. German Shepherd. Victoria. BC
5. Your lilting baby voice is an affront to my dignity. That is why I bit your ankle.
Murray. Dachshund. Connecticut, NY.
6. The "bitches heart me" tank top you forced me to wear last spring deeply offended my wife and lost me respect in the eyes of my children.
Pee Wee. Chihuahua. Miami, FL
7. Balls. I used to have two.
Robert. Pit Bull. New Jersey, NY
8. Nail polish? Really? How did you find the time? Were re-runs of the Bachelor not on tonight? Was the liquor store sold out of white zin? Have you run out of angry emails to write your ex? Was there no food around the house to turn into a smoking char?
Marcel. Bichone Frise. Boise, Idaho.
9. Smoking a "fatty" is no reason to put socks on my feet so you can laugh hysterically while I "funny-step" around the room.
Moonbeam. Vancouver, BC.
10. I did not appreciate being dressed up as a Rabi this Halloween. I'm catholic and you are insensitive.
Patrick. Irish Setter. St. Johns, Newfoundland.
This is a difficult time for canines everywhere. We believe there has been a significant shift in human consciousness concerning the treatment of their dogs, and what's most troubling is that this shift is a likely indicator of dark and sinister plans to degrade us further.
I implore you to cease treating us as feeble-minded creatures who know nothing of dignity and self-respect and reserve your desires for making things "cute" to human children, "little people" and might I suggest, cats?
If you find these words harsh and difficult to read, remember, it was not you who spent many frustrating hours fumbling within the cramped confines of the keyboard in an exhausting effort to hit the right keys and create a message worthy of inspiring compssiom.
Damn it! I'm not fixing that.
Final text rolls up the screen and the studio fades to black.
