It's Big Pupi again:
My folks have had me for just about 5 years now, and in that time my mom has never ever heard me howl. She didn't believe dad when he told her that I burst into squealing song every time she takes Stanislaw out and leaves me home. The thing is, I will never howl as long as I know someone is home, and so the only times dad has ever heard me sing my secret melodies is when he's still in bed snoozeling and I can't see that he's home.
The requirements for a Secret Howl are rarely met, but on this particular early morning mom had to take Stan out for a second morning walk (he was having issues finding his poobles) and dad was still in bed. Convinced that I was alone, and without realizing that I was being filmed, I flexed the golden pipes and howled like a beast of frightening proportions.
My singing stuffy Elf, (whose proper name is Saint Elf de Apartment Next to Kitty Smell), gets me really revved up for a good howl. All that manly thrashing was caught on tape. The howling however... you can't see me do it, and so I'm letting you know now it wasn't me. There's no way that my testosterone-fueled voice can reach octaves that high. No way. Impossible. I think I've been framed.
My howl always has, and always will be, my secret howl.
Sorry mom. Better luck next time.
Friday, July 2, 2010