Sunday, September 29, 2013

OMG! What a march!

 This is me, Mabel, and my identical twin sister, Harley (I'm the one on the right, just in case you can't tell us apart). We are begging Mama #2 to take us for a forced march. We didn't know the ordeal we were about to face.

Hi, this is your Diva Mabel.
I just returned from a forced march where Mama #9432 tried to kill me repeatedly.
Absolutely true.
I think she's trying to get rid of me so that she can spend more time with her gadgets.
Anyway, here's my horrific story. Last time we talked, I'd just begged Mama #2 to take me and my sisters out marching. We'd been locked up in the house (and yard!) for days. We were bored stiff (we weren't really stiff, it's just an expression) and my sisters Harley and Maggie were about to kill each other, just to have something to do.
We hadn't been out to smell new smells, see new sights, or investigate yards, parks and alleys for days. My nose was rapidly getting out of shape because it hadn't had anything new or unusual to smell.
When Mama #2 finally put on my her marching uniform, we all bounced around and yipped and whined and barked while she put those stupid marching ropes around our necks.
Water had fallen from the sky earlier in the day ("rain"). The roads were wet and big puddles were everywhere. I hate walking on wet roads, (and I usually refuse to walk on anything that's wet)  but I really, really wanted to go marching tonight, so I bravely marched up to each puddle.  Then, I stood patiently and waited for Mama #2 to pick me up and to lift me over each and every puddle.
Can you believe she thought I should jump over the puddles like Maggie does? Or slosh through them like my twin sister Harley?
When we started our march, it was a perfect evening for marching. I felt a cool breeze. The temperature was perfect - not too hot, not too cold. Everything I sniffed smelled sharp and new after the rain.
We marched down the street, sniffing everything and enjoying ourselves. Then, an evil car came racing down the road and zoomed through a nearby puddle. Splash! Water fell everywhere! My beautiful, clean fur coat was spotted with mud. The water drenched Harley's already soggy body, and hit Maggie too.
(Speechless. I felt totally speechless).
I stood in the street, not moving. I expected Mama #2 to get out that little black thing she likes to talk to and ask Mama #1 to come get us and take us home. How could I continue marching when I'm muddy and wet?!
Mama #2002 (Number drop! See how her ranking drops when she treats me badly?!) just tugged on my rope and told me to keep marching.
Mortally and emotionally wounded, I slowly dragged my paws forward. I know I promised to march quickly and not drag my paws tonight, but that's before I was assaulted by a flood of dirty water! Slowly, I moved towards home. 
My ordeal was not over yet. Suddenly, there was a flash of lightening and a rumble of thunder in the distance. Maggie's eyes bugged out and she picked up speed and pulled hard on her leash. "let's go home!" She cried. (My brave <snicker> big sister is scared of thunder!). and when Maggie's eyes bug out, so do Harley's. 
My bug-eyed sisters then ran for the hills (there's not any hills nearby, it's just an expression). 
So, while my buggy sisters are to running as fast as they can go towards home,  the wind starts blowing harder and harder, and, wait for it, suddenly, we were walking into a solid wall of dirt.
I've seen less scary horror movies. But this wasn't a movie, it was horrifyingly real.
Mama #9762 (Number Drop again!!) kept dragging us onward. Dragging our soggy, muddy bodies straight into the dust and lightening and thunder. And, when we knew it couldn't get any worse, it did. Water started to fall from the sky. Do you know what you get when you add rain to a dust? Mud! You get little mud balls. MUD BALLS rained down on us!
After many miles of marching, we finally arrived at home. Home at last! As I dragged my tired Diva self inside, I wanted to head straight for my spot on the couch to recover from this horrible ordeal, but Mama #9992 had other ideas; she dragged us all into the kitchen. She ran water over this paper thing ("paper towel") and wiped down each and every one of us.
How could she add insult to injury? (OK, it did feel good to get that awful dirt and mud off my beautiful fur).
Finally, she took off our neck ropes and gave us a chewy bone. I sat down on the floor in front of Mama #9992 and motioned to my sisters to remain in a tight circle around her while we gleefully ate our rewards for being dragged through water, storms and mud. Sister solidarity! We didn't move from our spots until she gave each of us a second chewy bone.
We deserved it. We deserved the best rewards for marching tonight. 
Remember my latest blog post where I longed to go marching again?
I plan to delete it.
I hate marching.
Here I am, trying to look cheerful and carefree after my latest forced march.

Note from Mama #9992: Mabel calls her walks "forced marches." She believes a walk is voluntary; a march is something that you are made to do. Even though she does like marching, she likes to act as though she hates it and always lags behind, dragging her paws.
Unfortunately, all she wrote about tonight was true. It turned out to be a bad night for marching.


  1. Poor mabel think you might need a vacation at our house from the so rough treatment there hang in there mabel we are praying for you

  2. Was this real or one of Harley's nightmares???