THE CHRONICLES OF ZOE DOG

Prozac Dog!

 Alice and Richard took me to the vet a couple of weeks ago. I hate going to the vet because the car rides scare the bejesus out of me. I pant, drool, and want to poop, although I can hold it in until we stop, and I can jump out of the car.

Once I'm there it's not too bad except for the cat smells lingering in the waiting room. My vet - her name is Leann - and her assistants treat me real good. They give me treats and pet me, but I know what they're up to. They're trying to calm me down before they do stuff to me.

Leann is a skinny, little woman with red hair and a beautiful smile. I know she is an elf, and I know she cannot reveal that she is an elf, or she would be banned from the International Society of Elves and lose her elfin powers.

There were two reasons I had to see Leann. The first was to get checked for heartworms. This had me freaked out. I figured they were going to strap me down on my back and cut me open to inspect my heart. Whew! Turns out it was just a blood test. No biggie. No heartworms in me. That's because once a month Richard gives me a yummy munchable that scorafies heartworms.

The other reason I had to see Leann was account of my behavior. I don't know what the big deal was. I mean I wasn't robbing pet stores, smoking cigarettes, or chomping the neighbors' cats. It was just some little stuff that was bothering my housemates. Like jumping up on their bed, circling around and then jumping off the bed ten or twelve times a night. Like panting, pacing and whining, and trying to jump up on Richard.

They think I'm insecure. I'm not insecure, or am I? I've got lots of friends, but most of them are humans. I have a few dog friends. Sienna Dog is my best friend, but I haven't seen her in a long time because she lives in a different neighborhood now. Marley Dog used to come around pretty regular, but he's moved way up north to Montana or some such place. I still have Blackie Dog, but he's an imaginary friend.

I've tried to make friends with dogs in our neighborhood, but most of them are teeny rat dogs. All they want to do is bark, growl, and act like they're tough stuff. They won't even let me sniff their butts! What kind of dog is that? When I walk down the street, they yip at me from behind windows and screen doors. That's when I walk into their front yards, take a long piss, and yell, "Eat shit rat dogs!"

If Richard would let me off my leash, I could chomp almost all of them in just one afternoon. But that would cause a lot of vet bills, insurance claims, and law suits. I'd also lose a lot of my human friends.

Maybe I do have a bit of a problem. I think I may have Restless Dog Syndrome. Yep, that's my diagnosis. I don't know what Leann's is, but she put me on some medicine to calm me down. It's called Prozac. It smells funny, but Richard puts it inside a tasty chicken-flavored treat, so I don't mind taking it. I looked Prozac up on the Internet. It sounds pretty weird. It's a selective serotonin reupchuck inhibitor. I think that means it keeps stuff in my brain from upchucking. You see, if your brain upchucks, you feel down and out or hyper in my case.

I've been taking this stuff for about two weeks. There might be something to it. I'm feeling better and stronger. If I keep taking it, it might transform me into a superhero. Hmm.

Faster than a speeding rabbit. More powerful than a bull moose. Able to leap king-size beds in a single bound. Look! Up in the woods! It's a bird! It's a squirrel! It's Prozac Dog!

Yes, it's Prozac Dog - the strange visitor from another valley who came to the highlands with powers and abilities far beyond those of mortal dogs. Prozac Dog - who can change the course of elk trails, crush logs with her bare teeth, and who, disguised as Zoe Dog, mild-mannered writer of The Chronicles of Zoe Dog, fights the never ending battle for Truth, Justice and the so-called American Way.

♫ Here she comes to save the day.
That means that Prozac Dog is on the way. ♫

Yeah, I like it. I'll need to work on a costume, but first I'm getting an irresistible urge to jump up on the bed.

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Superman don't need no seat belt.
~ Muhammad Ali