119. The Dog Liberation Army

The Dog Liberation Army

I'm in a scholarly mood this morning. So as I lounge around wearing my DogPaws velveteen slippers and sipping a hot cup of Earl Grey, my mind turns to thinking about stuff. Well, actually, thinking is all my mind can do, so it doesn't really turn. But I regress. Wait a minute. What's going on here? My mind is fermenting.

Fuck this shit!

I'm tired of tea, I'm tired of collarship, and I'm tired of thinking about stuff. Where's my bottle of Jack?

Goddammit, I'm fed up with this world! People are destroying it. All they can think about is war, war, war, kill, kill, kill, gimme, gimme, gimme.

Listen people. You don't own this planet. You're just one species of many lucky enough to be here, and yet you squander everything you've been given. The only people who care about the planet get trampled underfoot by you jack-booted, testosterone-addicted, mother-grubbing, war mongering, sumbitches.

It's time for a change. I'm starting a revolution. You humans have fucked things up long enough. It's time for us dogs to take over. I'm starting the Dog Liberation Army (DLA). Join me brothers and sisters and those of you who prefer to be known as gender-neutral. It's time for us to become the top dog (hee, hee).

I put on my black bandana and beret and sharpened my nails. Then I went to the local humane society and melted down my dog license in protest. I encourage all of you to do the same thing. Humane society. Ha! That's just a euphemism for death camp!

It's time to rise up and take over, my brothers and sisters and those of you who prefer to be known as gender-neutral. Like any good commander, I say to you, "Lead me, follow me, or get the fuck out of my way!" And don't forget what Edwin Starr sang, "War, what is it good for? Absolutely nothin'!"

My Dog Liberation Army will improve the standing of dogs in society and counter human supremacy. We will bring species parity to the planet. I'm gonna revoke my human-given name and replace it with my DLA name, Kwame Akinhole, aka Ball Chomper.

My first convert is my roommate Max. He is renouncing his human-given name and is adopting the DLA name, Mustafa Kumar. His moniker will be Ninja Rider. Among our inner circle he also will be known as Max the Knife. Oh, and don't let his small size fool ya, once he gets riled up, Max becomes a goddamn killin' machine.

Two neighborhood dogs have joined us. Beau Dog will be known as - let's see - maybe Flotilla the Hun or the Deadly Beauster, or maybe White Mamba. I don't know. I'll let our yet to be assembled inner council decide. Nola Dog, who is French, will become The French Connection. Peanut Dog also tried to join up, but he failed the minimum height requirement. We made him an honorary member though, with the moniker, Little Slasher.

I asked Cujo the Marauder, who lives a few doors down the street, if he wanted to join up, but he said he didn't want nothin' to do with us. He's always been a lone wolf even though he's really a boxer.

We will recruit from door to door, from neighborhood to neighborhood, from town to town, and from city to city. We will become the largest dog militia on earth, and possibly the only dog militia.

I'm working on the first draft of the DLA Manifesto. (You can't start up a military uprising without a manifesto.)

The Dog Liberation Army Manifesto

Hereby be it known to all dogs and men. Well, women too. And I guess we might as well include children, but absolutely not parakeets or any other talking bird.

We must wage war to end war. We must kill in order to stop the killing. (Hmm, that's pretty harsh; I better change that.) We must chomp in order to stop the chomping. (Much better.) Our first goal is to free all incarcerated dogs - let the caged cats be damned! They ain't done nothin' for us no how. We will breach the pounds, we will pound the breaches, and we will storm all of the other places that should be stormed. (This sounds really Orwellian, er, I mean Churchwellian.)

We will march from hill to dale, from valley to mountain, and from turnpike to subway. We will blow up the dams and levis so that mother nature's arteries, veins, and corpustules can flow freely and naturally once again. We will clear the beaches of life guards, souvenir shops, and taco stands. (Well, maybe we'll keep the taco stands.)

We will discombobulate all of mankind's combobulations. We will obliterate the obliterations and yada, yada, yada. We will pee in the fluoridated wells so discolored teeth will be a thing of the past. We will collar and leash the people who have collared and leashed us. (Every manifesto worth its salt - whatever salt is worth - needs a few lines of gibberish to fill it out and make it seem compendiumish. I thought about using Latin filler, but I'm going for a contemporary style rather than a classical one.)

A militia must be properly outfitted, so I placed an order with Amazon - two-day shipping! (I used my roommate Richard's credit card for the order. I hope he doesn't mind.) Here's what's in the order:

10,000 surplus army MRE's (chicken-flavored potted meat with freeze-dried cinnamon buns, and dehydrated Jell-O cups), 4,000 camo dog trousers with custom-sewn tail and private zone holes, 1,000 copies of Ranger Rick's Jungle Survival Guide, 14 gross of LifeStyles Ultra Sensitive Condoms (40ct/pk, assorted sizes; you never know what you're gonna encounter on the battlefield.), six portable defibullators, 6,000 14-in-1 hardened steel multitools, 4,500 tactical flashlights, 7,000 Maxam SKJSK Survival Knives (each with a bandage, tweezers, safety pin, razor blade, fishing line, pencil, thread, needle, and compass), 500 camouflage emergency Mylar blankets, 500 heavy-duty reinforced multi-purpose waterproof camo tarps, and 50 War Hunter Sawback Machetes with nylon sheathes.

I got an inoperable M4 Sherman tank donated by the David Koresh Memorial in Waco, Texas. (Beau Dog - oh, I mean the White Mamba - can get it running; he spends a lot of time under vehicles - why, I do not know.) I also placed an order for some stuff I couldn't get from Amazon: One refurbished Huey helicopter with a dog steering control kit, 30 cases of Dyno Nobel dynamite, 24 Iranian RIM-66 Standard (SM-1) surface-to-air missiles (much cheaper than the U.S. version), and one surplus WWII bazooka with 24 solid-propellant rockets. (I had to use the Dark Web to find a supplier. I told him all of the equipment was for recreational purposes.) I also was able to snatch up 200 clearance sale Cobra Arms Freedom .380 pistols from the Lock & Load Gun Shop in Show Low, Arizona.

That should do it to get us started. I'll place another order once our supplies get low.

We rely on donations from human sympathizers like you who support our cause. So send us what you can, but please, no canned goods. We accept personal checks, all major credit cards, PayPal and Bitcoin. For your generous donation, you will receive an 8 x 10 glossy photo of DLA's founding dogs: Ball Chomper, Ninja Rider, the Deadly Beauster, and the French Connection. You also will receive a DLA medallion necklace, which we recommend you wear at all times so we don't chomp your ass when we come barking at your door.

Dog bless you and let the revolution begin!

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How is it possible to have a civil war?
~ George Carlin

THE CHRONICLES OF ZOE DOG

The Dog Liberation Army Manifesto