I awoke with a start when I heard the cocking

I awoke with a start when I heard the cocking of rifles down the hall. It was just as I had always feared: the poodle poachers had come for Fifi.

What the poodle poachers didn't know was that I had trained Fifi to be a ruthless killer and had pumped her full of steroids and cocaine. The armed men opened the mail slot and

were simultaneously greeted and bid adieu by the frenzied, gnashing jaws of my pet Fifi, her razor-sharp canines unleashing a whirlwind of hellhound poodle fury on the poachers. I

sat back on my heels & observed the melee, pleased at Fifi's ferocity. When she finished gnawing on the last of the poachers, Fifi trotted over & looked up at me as if to say,

I need doggie shoes to go with my new doggie clothes. I rushed Fifi to the Pet Assessories store but they didn't have her size. It was an emergency

ing me to the doggie shoe department. "Press 1 if your dog has small feet, press 2 is your dog has huge feet" Those are my choices? LuLu Pickles has medium feet, I think. Oh God,

I felt like Goldilocks, but knew I'd probably be eaten before I found the porridge that was "just right" In a panic, I pressed 1 to say LuLu Pickles needs shoes 4 small dog feet

The disembodied voice said " Shoes are currently unavailable for small dog feet. Press 2 for donkeys.Press 3 for..." I bellowed at the world and threw the telephone into the porrid

-geridoo (a device of his own making that emitted bothdelicious gruel & haunting tribal music at the same time). "If you'd like more options, press 9" echoed from the gruel spou