Salutations, all. My name is La Poo Poo and my owner Grapes insisted that I get a blog (silly word, that is) and interact more with the world. As if I didn’t interact enough already, especially with all I have and am doing in life. School has begun once again for Grapes, and this usually brings about a moody depression for me. The only companion I have during the school year is Peabody, my butler and mostly butt-wiper. I like to call him my buttler. But that pun doesn’t work well verbally.
One day in May last year, May 7th, to be precise, Grapes came home from school with a creature that she introduced as Ernest. She described him as cute and adorably naive. I would describe him as a nuisance and a bother, stupid, and monstrous. I have never despised anything as greatly as I despise him. I don’t know why, he just has this aura of hateability. According to grapes, I am jealous.
I am not jealous.
She tells me I have been pampered too long and should try and see the “real world”. As if I haven’t seen it. What, is this that monstrous movie “The Matrix”? (For your information, I prefer masterpieces and delicate movies like “Howard’s End” and “Pride and Prejudice”, and cinematic work I can relate to, like the James Bond movies. Those fools in “The Matrix” aren’t agents at all, I’ll show you real operatives. But nevermind that now.) Is my life not reality? I have seen more cruel reality than she has, or that sad little bag has. He’s been adored by Grapes and her school buddies since he was born. Did anybody make me a party hat and invite me to Sushi’s birthday? I thought not. I remember a time when Grapes was loving and didn’t criticize me so. She called me a perfect being, almost as white as her feet. I’ve been thinking, and I believe Ernest may be the source of this problem.
For once in my life, I’m looking forward to ma cousine Guantorga’s visit in May. She lives in an abusive household and as a result is evil and orange. But the color of her fur is another story for another day perhaps. Normally I dread her annual visits which Grapes sets up out of hospitable feelings, but this year I feel she may be of use in regards to Ernest.
But I do not condone violence so that would never happen. Even in my current job I am chivalrous. And it is difficult to be chivalrous in this field. It is getting quite late, and I must get my beauty sleep in. A couple of hours can do wonders for the puff of your fur.
