Raw Food Diet, Day 259- The Thing in the Grass

Yesterday my whole life flashed before my eyes.  It was horrifying.  Terrible.  My body froze in fear.  I may never recover from this.

I was out in the park, snurfeling around in the grass getting ready to do my Good Boy business, when this horrid thing attached itself to my nose.  It came out of nowhere, and suddenly my face was assaulted by this wretched beast.  With every breath its soft tentacles would reach further and further into my nose and it flooded my nostrils with its strange scent.  In a dramatic showing I thrashed about and used my front paws to dislodge the nasty critter, but it was useless.  It had a gorilla glue grip on me.

When I realized its power over me I froze with one paw in the air.  I would not move as any motion pressed this thing ever tighter into my face.  My humans could not make me walk and I would not blink my eyelids lest I draw attention to that delicate feature.  In mere moments it had rendered me helpless and mute, too afraid to think.  This was my end, I was sure of it.  I would starve out here in the wilderness with this thing sucking the life out of me through my schnozzle as I stood like a statue silently begging for help.  And my humans laughed at me.  All they could do was laugh.  Their son was in grave danger and they threw their arms into the air mingling guffaws and mocking me.  

After witnessing my wretched condition and allowing it to continue for far too long my humans peeled the creature from my frozen face and urged my stone-like body to move over the grass.  I would not sniff.  There would be no business done this time.  That monster was still hiding out there somewhere and I wasn't about to risk life and limb again.  I would not play with my friend when she came out for her walk.  I warned her though.  Warned her about this terrible creature the humans call Feather.  "Feather sticks to your face and reaches into your nose," I said in a menacing voice.  "Beware of Feather.  Feather hunts for wet canine schnozzles."

I need to speak to my therapist about this one.

Beware of the thing in the grass,

Stanislaw

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