Wednesday, August 01, 2007

Buster and the Miracle Cure

Buster is Allan’s dog. He’s cute, very little and everyone who sees him says, Can I pet your dog? What’s his name? Is he a puppy? The long, Ooooooooooh, such a baby, usually follows.

Buster has a problem, though.

His little penis does not go all the way back into the skin. It’s not attractive, not really cute and Allan has spent serious money for an operation- that did not work- and medication.

Buster and his perpetual hard on is never discussed by strangers reaching down for a little pat because, well, they think he’s just glad to see them.

No. It’s always like that.

After spending well over five hundred dollars trying to get the penis problem fixed, Allan gave up. The penis seemed okay and Buster was never in any discomfort. Unlike when Jake tipped the stool over on his foot- we all heard loudly from Buster that, in fact, his foot was broken. If he was unhappy, he'd let us know.

Besides, Buster is just a dog.

Before you throw a noose up for me next to one for Michael Vick, I think it’s important to know Buster is an incredibly well cared for dog. He is either sitting next to, riding next to and sleeping next to Allan at all times. He is allowed on the furniture, served an amazing amount of leftovers and has a small set of stairs to help him get up on the bed.

Buster has a personal chef in the form of a good friend who lives next door. She has been known to ask all the dogs, How do you want your eggs cooked?

Yesterday, I received an email from Allan. He was ecstatic. There has been, at last, a cure.

Was it holy water? A vision of Mary? Did Ernest Angley appear in spirit to “heeeeeeeeeealllll” the little dog?

No. He ran in the ocean, chasing waves and Jake. The salt water, and I am assuming the icy temperature, finally put the penis to rest in its proper place.

I bet you thought I was going to write about Jake… Allan wrote.

Oh no. Such miracle cures are a blessing and should be shared immediately. Lourdes for dogs with penis problems lies in the remote shores of Down East Maine. Be sure to book a room- I’m not sure the locals are aware of the great rush that will soon be upon them.


Listen, things might be hard- pardon the pun- but if I forget how to laugh? I'm in serious trouble.