Chubby the Dachshund

I work graveyards, so I usually wrap up my shift in the early morning and I had home in the wee hours…usually when everyone is just beginning to stir.  Nevertheless, at 8am or so, I am very groggy and desperately looking forward to heading home to gulp down a cup of joe or two before hitting the hay.

This is usually how I spend my mornings.

Today’s morning was a little more complicated than that and sleep didn’t occur right away.  First off driving home was a bitch.  Spokane traffic is horrible during the summer.  You could be two blocks away from your house and pass by four traffic crews, twelve drivers who don’t know how to signal, a bicyclist who prefers to weave down the center lane, and somehow, no matter what, you will still end up overshooting your house and ending up on the opposite side of the city.  A five-minute drive almost took me twenty and my ’87 Chevette doesn’t have very many twenties left in her.

It's true.

Needless to say I was in a less than stellar mood by the time I reached home, so when I opened the door to an apartment filled to the brim with purple haze I was quickly delivered to livid.  There, in plain view, was a chubby Dachshund strapped into a baby seat next to a passed out ferret after a late night of smokin’ the ganja, looping “Beat It” on vinyl, and playing Super Mario Bros. on my NES!  Mopey was softly snoring, yet twitching and muttering about Goombas.  I kicked him as I went by and he started to stir some more as I put my coat away.

As soon as Mopey straggled his was out his slumber I asked him to head into the office.  We needed to talk.  The whole time Chubby the Dachshund just laid in his car seat making wheezing noises and occasionally coughing which ultimately knocked over his ‘snorkeling’ gear.

After some ferret harassment, which might border on the illegal Mopey confessed that Chubby used to be a political campaign manager to Anthony Weiner and since the great Weiner debacle Chubby has been out of the job.  Chubby was raised in a single-parent household with thirteen other chubby Dachshunds’ and it has always been his dream to be a politician.  Because of Weiner’s wiener tweets it looks like Chubby’s dream is all but lost, so he called up his old college roommate, Mopey, hitched a ride to Spojakistan, and spent the night wallowing in copious amount of weed, alcohol, Michael Jackson vinyl, and NES classics in order to ‘forget.’

After such a sad tale and with Malicious the Gorilla living with Bradley now I decided to let Chubby stay as long as Mopey cleaned up the house and lit some incense.  As he scurried off to clean and tell a comatose Chubby the good news I plopped down on my bed.

“Damn it Mopey!  Who painted Che Guevara on my ceiling!?”

Mopey the Barbarian

As, Mopey the Barbarian Ferret gathered his Ferret forces he thought of the days long past when he used to play and scurry…always finding himself in asleep with his tongue hanging out in a comfortable hammock surrounded by play balls and other ferrety companions.

Now he was a battled hardened warrior that led the Tribe of Ferrets against the evil Guinea Pigs of the North.  It was said that they sacrificed mice to their unnamed king on Mount Chinchilla.  Mopey was not entirely sure if this was true, because only once as a pup had he passed the dreaded line and past the door that ‘moves upon no command’ which was nowhere close to Mount Chinchilla.  Plus no one had seen the Guinea Pig King; there were only quiet rumors that haunted the Ferret ranks about his legendary feats.

However, Mopey was still loved by all, and in there own legends it was said that he had climbed to the tallest cat tree in all of Petco and has stared down the elusive felines of the West.  It was with this spirit that he was able to unite all of the Ferret kingdom under one ruling banner in a large scale effort to battle the heinous Guinea Pig Tribe.

He had raised his army on the South side of this line amongst the glass aquariums that held the armless ones.  They never spoke, but bobbed two and fro and sometimes hurriedly swam once a crude spear, made of wooden hamster chew sticks, hit their tank.  It was here that he had raised his army.

Mopey had been planning for days and he was most certain that he had devised a strategy that would win the war.  Sun Tzu would be proud.  He gathered his troops: there was Bob the Perky Ferret, Hansel and Gretel the Twin Terrors, Dopey the Dwarf Ferret, and his right paw ferret, Greg the Stoic Ferret.  As always the meeting began with Hansel and Gretel fervently battling with one another like a classic cloud raised fight amongst schoolyard children.

“They should have been named Charlie and Lucy,” Mopey muttered to himself.


“You will settled down immediately,” commanded Greg with a stern, and steady voice.


Once the meeting had started the Twin Terrors calmed down.  Bob passed around the peace pipe and everyone else followed suit.

“Catnip, does calm the nerves doesn’t it Greg?” said Mopey in a mellow voice.  Greg merely nodded.

The meeting was success.  Hansel and Gretel would lead the legion of Ferrets in a frontal assault while Bob and Dopey would command the fire brigade from atop the aquariums.  From that particular vantage point they could continually launch aquarium rocks and trees almost ad infinitum upon the plentiful Guinea Pig forces.  Greg and Mopey would be leading the sneak attack on Chinchilla Mountain in an effort assassinate the Guinea Pig King and stop the battle from furthering for any longer than necessary.  Everyone had their roles and places and it was only a matter of time now.

It was 1pm when the Guinea Pigs struck…and no one saw it coming…not the fire brigade, not the Terror Twins, not even Mopey.

“They’re everywhere!” Hansel shouted above the cacophony.  His forces were downed in minutes.

Hansel was right though.

Guinea Pigs by the thousands swarmed over the Ferret troops.  They climbed the Petco shelves in droves knocking products off the shelves and sometimes whole aisles in a mad effort to wipe the Ferrets from the face of the Earth.  They scurried over one another with reckless abandon.  They passed over the bulk dog treat bin and left them empty in their wake.  The sunshine from the outside was blocked by Guinea Pigs that had scaled the windows looking to blind their enemies by leaving them in darkness.

Mopey just stood with his hamster spear in paw looking at the impending doom…

At about this moment I received a phone call from a very scared Petco employee asking if I was ready to pick up Hanz, my mopey ferret, from the groomers.  And, thus began my adventure to the Division street Petco.

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