Not Endorsing Hillary, Not Not Endorsing Hillary

I have now been asked this question a hundred times since my message of a few weeks ago: Am I endorsing Hillary? Let me make my position perfectly clear. What I endorse are Hillary's displays of aggression and her unambiguous assertions of dominance. I can respect this; Hillary is a woman after my own heart.

However, this does not mean than I endorse her dominance over ME! In a perfect world, I should be able to offer my leadership to this country. In fact, if you are reading this blog, I suspect that you already acknowledge my natural supremacy in the pack. Since I am constitutionally prohibited from running for the highest office of the land, I . . . well, I'm undecided. I need to be courted. What's in it for me, man? Will Hillary give me more meat than, say, Christopher Dodd? Perhaps John Edwards will dig me a better den than Hillary? He seems accommodating. And I hear that Dennis Kucinich will do anything for a vote.

So that is my answer. Show me da meat! Hallie

Sunday Walk Report 2

The first blue skies in what feels like months today--and that's a damn shame! I love the snow, the Siberian winds, the scent of prey in tracks kept fresh by the icy cold. These are a few of my favorite things, man. Now the air is warm, the ground is drying out. I become overheated after only a few blocks of patrolling. I want all of my readers to take a moment and feel pity for me and my chill-loving girth. That's an order! Hallie

Murder on My Mind

This morning my monkey-person escorted me on a long, lovely walk through the snowy streets of Highland Park. We even lingered on the grounds of the King Mansion. I sniffed and tracked another dog's trail for awhile. I pooped on the edge of the woods.

Feeling so good after such a nice walk, I decided to unwind by trying to kill my monkey-person for a few minutes. I struck fierce poses. I lunged at his neck. I spun around, ran to the other side of the apartment, frantically dug into some carpeting, charged back across the room and pounced on his weary head, many times. With a tooth, I added a small puncture wound that will, in a few days, become a new scar on this hand.

This went on for awhile, until he stopped moving. Then I got bored. I nipped his ear one last time, turned around, heaved my girth up onto the couch, and settled in for my mid-morning nap. Hallie

Farewell, My Super Thug

You disliked everyone, and you played like you hated them all. This endeared you to me. Your displays of aggression were peerless. And the way you asserted your dominance before games by pulling your jersey up over your abdomen and shouting incomprehensible insults, well . . . there is an Alpha female in Pittsburgh who will always feel like she missed out on meeting her perfect Alpha male. Farewell, Joey!

Hallie

Part Golden, Part Chow (The War Within)

My litter was the first of the North Georgia Mini-Retriever breed. The Powers chose our ancestors carefully: Golden Retrievers on one side, and the Chow Chow on the other. By appearance alone, it is clear to me that I embody a new Master Race. The readiness with which everyone accepts my leadership, my generous girth and my glorious pantaloons all attest to this fact.

But there is a high price to pay for outer perfection: the struggle in my soul between the friendly, out-going and playful Golden Retriever and the more demonic impulses to intimidate and put the "smack down" on everybody else that arises from my Chow Chow nature. Which side to choose? Sometimes, it is SO hard to decide. Excitedly wag my tail or lunge for the jugular? Like I said, hard. And my breeding affords me no middle ground.

When I am just waking up, desirous of feasting, or settling down for sleep, I will usually indulge the Golden angels of my psyche. Kisses, sitting cutely in a mock display of submission and, even the occasional flop on the back for a belly rub are the order of the day. However, when I am wide awake, satiated or unfulfilled for a prolonged time, or simply bored, I like to threaten others with imminent death and dismemberment. For example, just like I said to Chaya the other day, a dog that lives around the corner from me: "I am going to kill you."

At the end of the day, when I am performing my Alpha duty of separating myself from the pack and preparing to sleep alone on the couch, overlooking everything, I sometimes like to think that my heart belongs to the Golden Retrievers . But once I sleep and slip into the snowy forests of dream, the running down and decapitation of squirrels begins! Hallie

Thoughts on Hillary & Barak

Everyone expects the fur to fly when there is a struggle to determine the new Leader of the Pack. (I myself am a veteran of several battles for dominance, some of them, indeed, ongoing). The point to remember is that the pack is not offended by the idea of asserting dominance, rather, it is troubled by the stasis of a lingering stalemate between contenders. In a stalemate, the pack chooses the strongest, even fiercest candidate, e.g., the wolf cub that puts her big furry foot in the face of her rival, on her way to the top of litter (ah, sweet memories . . . ). Hillary: keep putting your big furry feet on the faces of your opponents! It was the (Alpha) role you were born to play. Nobody wants you to play any other. Hallie

PS If you are still in office when I am old enough to make a run myself, watch out! I won't hesitate to cull you from the herd . . . Hallie

An Early Mid-Afternoon Nap (The More You Know)

After going for a stroll through my territories and domains, I like to return to my den and wolf down as much meat as possible. Then I like to take a few moments to remind my monkey-person that he is subordinate to me, preferably by trying to nip his ears bloody. Once I've checked these to-do items off my list, I find that I like to nap for a time. Like, maybe, six or seven hours (see above). Hallie