70. Misty Dumpling

Spring has begun in the highlands, and my walks in the woods are replete with brisk air, grass turning green, robins hopping around, and frogs croaking. I sat down under a pine tree this morning and occluded my winter misgivings.

The new season has disemboweled my literary procrastinations, allowing me to procreate voluptuous works of novel and lesser. I envision my progression of works as the clouds pass by and the squirrels clamber up the trees before I can chomp them.

Due to my immense modesty, all of my major works will be pseudonominous. First, I will start with a series of science fiction novels in the old style of the 20th century. My initial offering will be the Gromulets of Mars, written by Edgar Mice Burrows:

John Barker, a reservation dog, uncovers an ancient artifact while prospecting for gold in the desert southwest. Once he bites the artifact, it transports him to Mars. Barker finds that he has great strength and supercanine agility in this new environment as a result of its lesser gravity. He soon falls in with a nomadic tribe of Gromulets, as the planet's warlike, six-legged canines are known. Thanks to his strength and martial prowess, Barker rises to a high position in the tribe and earns the right to be initiated into the Gromulet Corsuket at the temple of Bayeth, the Gromulet's God-Bitch.

Next will be a massive existential tome called The Maidenhead by Lyn Land. The Maidenhead's protagonist, Howling Bark, is an investment banker dog of independent-mindedness and integrity, who barkingly advocates his individualism over the slip, slider collectivism of the period. Set in the seamy confines of East LA, The Maidenhead is the embodiment of the canine spirit and the struggle to overcome conformity and social justess.

But before I undertake these works of clarvescence, I will munch a few blades of grass. Ah! It hit me like a pile of poop. I must first embrace my gentilosity with a work of simple mindedness. A children's book! It will invigorate my soul and refurbish the little urchins who read it. I will inject a dose of fabulism into it for my adult readers. I wrote the book in my head as easily as Donatello sculptured a sourdough. And here it is:

Misty Dumpling
by Zoe Dog

Once upon a time there was a flock of sheep on Farmer John's farm. Amongst the sheep was a sad little sheep named Misty Dumpling. She was the runt sheep and she had palsied legs

Boys and girls, do you know what palsied legs are? It's when your legs are wrinkled up like long raisins and you can hardly walk. When other kids see your palsied legs on the playground, they say stuff like "yuch," eeww," and "gross."

Misty Dumpling was bullied by the other sheep because she was weak and pathetic. She tried to run away when they came after her, but she hardly could run. They would run up to her and bite her butt.

Boys and girls, have you ever bited another kid's butt? It's fun if you can get away with it.

Blackie was the biggest sheep in the flock, and he was as mean as Tortilla the Hun. He tormented Misty Dumpling everyday. He bit her, spit cud in her eyes, stole her favorite marble, and laughed at her. Whenever she saw him coming, she stood in acringement, hoping he would have mercy, but he never did.

Misty Dumpling's life was as bitter as a prednisone pill. She had no friends, she was bullied all the time, and she was too wimpy to defend herself. Every day was a living hell for her. Then one day something amazing happened. While Misty Dumpling was grazing in the meadow, a bird landed on her back. It said, "I am the Bluebird of Happiness, and I will grant you one wish."

"Can you really do that?" asked Misty Dumpling.

"Of course I can dumbass," said the Bluebird of Happiness with a sense of irritation in its voice. "Why else would I land on your back, and say this, that and the other. Don't waste my time. I have other pathetic ruminants to visit.

Boys and girls, do you know what a dumbass is?

So Misty Dumpling thought and thought. "I've got it!" she exclaimed. "I want to be the biggest, toughest sheep in the whole flock."

"So be it," said the Bluebird of Paradise as it flew away and shit on Farmer John's tractor.

That evening Farmer John gathered up the sheep and took them to their pen for the night. As nightfall came, Misty Dumpling felt strange. She tingled and cachortled. She tossed and turned, hardly sleeping at all.

When the rooster crowed in the morning, Misty Dumpling got up in amazement. She had grown during the night. Her legs were sturdy and strong. She felt powerful. She was the biggest sheep in the flock!

"Now it's my turn," she said smirkily to herself. She went around to all of the other sheep and bullied them something fierce. She bit them. She kicked them in the face. She called them every bad word she could think of.

She saved Blackie for last. When he saw her coming he ran away as fast as he could, but she was faster, stronger, and bigger. She caught him under the oak tree and beat the shit out of him over and over and over.

"Hey Blackie," she snarled. "Ain't payback a bitch?"

Boys and girls, is there someone you would like to beat the shit out of?

All day long Misty Dumpling pranced around in the meadow while pushing the other sheep around. She was happy for the first time in her life. That evening Farmer John came for the sheep like he always did. The he saw Misty Dumpling.

"My Gawd!" he said in amazement. "That runt sheep is now bigger than all the others. What the heck! Did she get into the fertilizer bag or something?"

Farmer John herded the sheep back to the pen, but he put a rope around Misty Dumpling's neck and took her behind the barn. Then he busted open her head with a sledge hammer and butchered her for dinner. All of Farmer John's family marveled at all of the meat Misty Dumpling provided.

THE CHRONICLES OF ZOE DOG