Thursday, February 16, 2012

Doggy humor: So you think you can bark—Episode 2

By Hobo Hudson

“Welcome back everyone to our new and exciting weekly reality game show So you think you can bark. I’m Hobo Hudson, the host. Before we start, I want to point out that I have made a little change this week from last week’s show and have segregated applications between large, medium and small dogs to make the contest a little fairer to the smaller dogs. Now, let’s get the ball rolling. We have an exciting lineup of contestants tonight, and you could have knocked me over with a feather when I saw this application. COME ON OUT, BO!”

A Portuguese water dog slowly strolls down the aisle flanked by six humans in black suits. On reaching the stage, he sits down with his attendants arranged in a semicircle around him.

“Uh, Bo, who are the humans?”

Bo stretches his neck out to reach the microphone in front of him so that he doesn’t have to stand up and says, “They are my secret service body guards. Dad is afraid a terrorist might kidnap me and make him do something he shouldn’t do.”

“That makes a lot of sense. All right, Bo, let me hear your best bark.”

Bo turns aside and snaps his toe at one of the body guards who immediately drops to all fours and quickly crawls over to the mike and emits a loud WOOF.

“Bo, I don’t think that qualifies because you are supposed to issue the bark yourself.”

Heaving a long sigh, Bo leans his head again forward toward the mike. “Oh Hobo, I never bark because it might strain my delicate vocal cords.”

“Uh?” Hobo cocks his head. “Well, all right, then. Now let’s hear it for contestant Number 2. COME ON DOWN, KOLCHAK!”

A handsome puggle wearing a chef’s hat comes loping down the aisle with a large sack over his shoulder.

“Welcome to our show, Kolchak. What’s that bag over your shoulder?”

Carefully placing his sack in front of him on the floor, Kolchak replies, “As you know, I operate a doggy bakery, and I brought along a big bag of pumpkin cookies for the audience to enjoy.”

A loud howl of approval erupts from the audience. When the audience calms down, Hobo continues moderating, “That’s wonderful, Kolchak but I’m afraid I can’t let you pass them out until voting is complete since it could be considered bribery.”

A loud yowl of anguish erupts from the audience, but Hobo ignores it.

“OK, Kolchak, let’s hear your best bark.”   

Taking a deep breath, Kolchak emits a moderately loud bark.

“That’s great, Kolchak. You’re definitely in the running. Now, let’s hear from our final contestant. COME ON DOWN, COPERNICUS!”

A medium sized dog with long hair and a worried look on his face comes down the aisle, walking on his rear legs while furiously punching a calculator with one paw and texting on his fruit phone with his other paw.

“Now, Copernicus, your application says you assist NASA with their rocket program. Can you tell us a little bit about your work?”

Copernicus quickly glances up at Hobo and rattles off, “Sorry Hobo. I’m going to have to disqualify myself. I’m involved in a situation right now and have to correct some work my human underlings did incorrectly. We’ve got a missile launch in a few minutes and my human colleagues have programmed it to hit the space station instead of the moon. It would be a major boo-boo if we accidently blew up the space station.” Copernicus fixes his eyes back on his fruit phone and calculator.

“I understand, Copernicus. Well, I’m going to have to disqualify Bo and Copernicus, so Kolchak is our winner by default. OK, Kolchak, let’s get those pumpkin cookies passed out as soon as I grab a paw full.”

The members of the audience jump up and make a mad rush to get a cookie before someone else beats them to them. Amid the bedlam, Hobo tries to remind everyone to pick up their tickets to the next week’s show, but his mouth is too full of cookies to do anything except mumble.

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About Hobo


This was Hobo Hudson, my doggy brother, a little terrier mix with black fur. He became famous after his first attempt at writing stories, which was an article published in the newsletter of our local animal shelter, the same shelter in which I ended up years later before Hobo and his parents adopted me. Hobo’s fame quickly spread as he made a name for himself as a business dog and an adventurer. To keep his memory alive, my doggy sister, my three kitty siblings and I, Wylie Hudson, are continuing his blog. Our mom is the blog’s editor.

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