By Peppermint Patti
JOTR Columnist
It is true, Sophie, that my two-leggers put my name on top of these columns that I write free for them.
That is as it should be, I suppose, though I hear the male two-legger often enough complaining that he is not being paid ENOUGH for his writing, which argues that he is being paid SOMETHING, which is more than he is paying me.
But here’s the clincher.
When time comes for him to collect all my columns together and publish them as a book, Sophie, whose name do you think will appear first?
Not Peppermint Patti, I bet.
Know what we need, Sophie?
It’s called a union.
The two-leggers have them.
Why not dogs?
In a union, we would be equal, you and I. As I understand it, in theory, we also would be equal to our two-leggers.
That is not quite right, of course.
It would be demeaning to agree that we are the equals of two-legged walkers.
Even though my pedigree came up missing when I got lost from my first two-leggers, I know in my puppy’s heart of hearts that I am more than equal to any two-legger I’ve ever met.
So I’m not sure about all this unionized equality.
Maybe we could agree to it and cross our pads.
But I don’t like that.
If a dog has one thing, it’s her integrity.
A dog stands for something for sure, Sophie.
Personal comfort, yes, but even more, a dog is straight-up and true.
A dog knows what she wants, whether it be a scrap from the table or a crack at a bush-tail.
You might say, there is no beating around the bush-tail when it comes to what a dog wants.
We wear our druthers on our coats.
And speaking of coats, mine could use a good brushing, couldn’t yours?
I’d be sure to write a brushing clause into our contract, Sophie.
Right after plenty of regular food, first-class chow, and all the table scraps we think fit to beg for.
Here’s what we need, Sophie — a dog’s bill of rights.
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