A little story for the dog people.
Posted: February 1, 2005, 5:41 pm
Once upon a time, a long time ago, there was a King. He was not an ordinary King, he was a King in Heaven. He had a great big castle in the clouds, round and white with banners flowing from the towers. He was the King of Dogs. So much did the King love the Dogs, that once each week - every thursday - he would invite all the Dogs of the world to a grand party in his round, white castle in the clouds. There was music, dancing and all the bockwurst and meatballs the dogs could eat, and they would come from all over the world to be part of the festivities.
In fact, the only thing the King of Dogs did not like was assholes. He so disliked assholes that he had his servants fit the outer wall of his great, big,
round, white castle in the clouds with little hooks, and only Dogs who agreed to hang their asshole on a hook would be allowed inside to join the party.
For many, many years the parties continued, and the Dogs were happy, and the King was happpy, and the people who sold Bockwurst and Meatballs were happy.
Then one day, a thursday as it was, in the middle of the grand party in the
great, white, round castle in the clouds, it happened that a fire broke out. And the fire spread, and soon, the great, white, round castle in the clouds turned into an inferno with dogs running everywhere in a confused bunch. The great big dogs (WOOF, WOOF!) and the little tiny dogs (yip, yip!) and the mongrels and the pedigrees and the poodles with their stylish hairdos; all running around like the sky was falling. And the fire kept spreading, and the dogs went into a panic, everywhere there were dogs barking madly and running their heads into each other, furs singed and noses twitching.
The fire had spread to the beams that held the roof, and soon it would be caving in on the mass of dogs. Then, as if by a miracle, one of the walls tumbled over (which, considering that the castle was round, was quite a miracle indeed), and the huge flock of dogs ran outside in a mass of singed fur and tails and twitching noses.
And there, in a huge pile surrounded by glowing embers, were all the dogs'
assholes. And if things had been bad before, now pandemonium broke out. For a dog without an asshole is hardly a real dog. A big dog - a Great Dane by the name of Rufus - took charge, and yelled over the din of yipping and barking and sniffing, 'EVERYONE, GRAB THE NEAREST ASSHOLE AND WE WILL SORT THINGS OUT LATER - JUST GET OUT OF HERE!'. And so the dogs did: each grabbed a random asshole from the pile, stuck it on their ass and ran from the smoldering remains of the King of Dogs Great, Big, White, Round castle in the clouds to the earth.
And that is why, today, whenever two dogs meet, they are both still looking for their real asshole, and sniff each others' behinds.
(quoted from memory, originally told by Dario Fo)
In fact, the only thing the King of Dogs did not like was assholes. He so disliked assholes that he had his servants fit the outer wall of his great, big,
round, white castle in the clouds with little hooks, and only Dogs who agreed to hang their asshole on a hook would be allowed inside to join the party.
For many, many years the parties continued, and the Dogs were happy, and the King was happpy, and the people who sold Bockwurst and Meatballs were happy.
Then one day, a thursday as it was, in the middle of the grand party in the
great, white, round castle in the clouds, it happened that a fire broke out. And the fire spread, and soon, the great, white, round castle in the clouds turned into an inferno with dogs running everywhere in a confused bunch. The great big dogs (WOOF, WOOF!) and the little tiny dogs (yip, yip!) and the mongrels and the pedigrees and the poodles with their stylish hairdos; all running around like the sky was falling. And the fire kept spreading, and the dogs went into a panic, everywhere there were dogs barking madly and running their heads into each other, furs singed and noses twitching.
The fire had spread to the beams that held the roof, and soon it would be caving in on the mass of dogs. Then, as if by a miracle, one of the walls tumbled over (which, considering that the castle was round, was quite a miracle indeed), and the huge flock of dogs ran outside in a mass of singed fur and tails and twitching noses.
And there, in a huge pile surrounded by glowing embers, were all the dogs'
assholes. And if things had been bad before, now pandemonium broke out. For a dog without an asshole is hardly a real dog. A big dog - a Great Dane by the name of Rufus - took charge, and yelled over the din of yipping and barking and sniffing, 'EVERYONE, GRAB THE NEAREST ASSHOLE AND WE WILL SORT THINGS OUT LATER - JUST GET OUT OF HERE!'. And so the dogs did: each grabbed a random asshole from the pile, stuck it on their ass and ran from the smoldering remains of the King of Dogs Great, Big, White, Round castle in the clouds to the earth.
And that is why, today, whenever two dogs meet, they are both still looking for their real asshole, and sniff each others' behinds.
(quoted from memory, originally told by Dario Fo)
