The Little Mermaid is a story of a fish-person who sees a prince playing with his dog and realizes that swimming is scary and she wants to be a human so that she can run around and wrestle with the Prince, just like the dog. She goes to the Sea Witch and asks to be a human, but the sea witch says she has to be debarked in return. So when she sees the Prince, she can't bark in his face to make him chase her.
An important thing for any job is that the boss-person be a good leader. My boss-man is a great leader because he brought turkey jerky to our meeting, and immediately he had my undivided attention. I was inspired to do anything he asked me to do. "You are a very handsome man," I told him, laying my head in his lap. "I find you irresistible..." I went on.
I wasn't so sure about letting so many people besides Mom order me around, but Mom explained that when you start at your first job it's kind of like everyone is your boss and you have to do what they all say. And Mom was right! I met so many new Oscar fans who gave me pats and butt scratches that sometimes I couldn't give them all the attention that they wanted. Work is stressful!
As much as I love Mom, I couldn't imagine anyone finding her as handsome as I am, and I thought it was pretty preposterous that she would think that someone would find her the more attractive of the two of us.
"What was that lady's problem?" I asked Mom. "I think you startled her with your barking," Mom said. "SHE startled ME with HER barking!" I said. "It's true, she should have been paying attention. She was a bit of a dingbat, wasn't she?" "You think SHE was a dingbat? Did you see her dog?!"
It is a tradition for four-legged runners to wear face socks in the start and finish area. Mom says it's not nice to criticize other cultures, but I don't think it's nice to humiliate anyone or hold their mouths shut. How are you supposed to do fun things like bark, eat the chips that Mom is sharing for breakfast, or lick the legs of strangers when you're wearing a face sock? Everywhere I looked there were four-legged runners smooshing their faces on the ground or punching themselves in the nose trying to get the face socks off.
"What's an obstaple?" I asked. "I don't know. Like crawling through mud and jumping over stuff and things. I didn't really read the website that closely. You'll love it. I brought treats." Now I was real excited to do obstaple racing and show off how good I am at getting dirty and looking cool in pictures. But I guess Mom didn't read the website closely at all because she found out that the humans had to do the obstaples too. "Oh, well I can't do that," Mom told the lady with the t-shirts. "I have a medical issue." "Mom, what's a medical issue?" I asked. "It means that I'm wearing socks," she said.
Well... mostly to ourselves. We were running through the skirt of the mountain, where the boulders and bushes fight to see who can win the trail, when I came around the corner and saw a turtle-person right in front of me. "What are you doing here? Let me see your early morning permit!" I barked. She looked suitably scared of me, so when Mom called my name, I figured it was okay to leave the turtle-person, go get Mom and show her.
Once we started walking downhill on the shady side of the mountain, Mom, whose heart pumps ice rather than blood, started to turn blue. Every mile or so, I had to come back to her and block the path so that she could bang her hands on my handsome butt until she could feel them again. It wasn’t that cold, Mom is just made with lizard parts.