Lucy the Dachshund Saves the World

Mankind called, Lucy responded. Ever the pugnacious little girl, Lucy is on a mission. My wife always knew good ol' LuLu was destined for greatness, and not just on the plane of Dachshundness, but on a larger scale - a much larger scale.

For the edification of the unwashed, these stout little buggers were bred in Germany to be ratters; pursuers extraordinaire of all things small, furry, beady-eyed and tunnel dwelling. If it lives in a hole or tunnel complex, or if it's just small and furry and quick moving, Lucy owns it. For how many generations has her kind lain in wait for the moment of calling? Now is her time!

The word came down from on high - from the tippy-top. Such a task called for one specific expertise above all others - Lucy! She need no training, no hardening of her character. She was ready to go to do her nation's bidding.

Lucy arrived at her duty station raring to go. She was outfitted in all the proper accoutrement - camo gear, parachute, and emergency supply of Beggin' Strips - after all, a girl has gotta eat, especially this fat-assed "ham with a head."

From a secret location she was strapped to a predator drone and launched on her mission. Her ears flapped and her tail acted as rudder to guide her to her destiny. She released herself from her harness and deployed her 'chute for the decent into Hell. She landed, reapplied her camo face paint and went about her work incognito. She used her scent hound breeding to find her quarry.

She reached the lair of her victim and set about her work to save the world. She slithered, sniffed, grunted, growled and went on her way, tenacity guiding her - well, that and her nose. It only took her a few minutes to work herself into the hole her target hid in. She found him. He was picking his nose and watching Family Feud on The Game Show Network, translated into Farsi, of course. And if you've seen the snout on this cat ya know he was in, both hands, up to his wrists. He hadn't a chance.

Lucy pounced upon him and began dragging him toward their destiny, for his future was now tied to hers. She snarled and dragged, snarled and dragged. Eventually they reached the barren patch of desert formerly known as Desert One. As the helicopters flew into view Lucy released him from her grasping jaws. He ran toward the landing choppers, Lucy nipping at his heels all the way as ran screaming into the arms of American military forces. He was screaming incoherently in Farsi, the only intelligible words from his lips - "Allah akbar, Allah akbar!"

Lucy jumped on the chopper and took up a seat next to RatBoy. His beady little eyes were filled with terror. He volunteered to be waterboarded if they would just save him from Lucy.

Lucy, cool as a cucumber, merely smiled that doggy smile. RatBoy wailed in fear. Before the chopper cleared Iranian airspace RatBoy had sold out the Mullahs. He told us where the nuclear materials were, the missiles - everything!

The rest is a blur. RatBoy was taken into US custody and bestowed a wonderful 8' x 6' abode at Gitmo. "Not too bad" he said to no one in particular. He flipped on the tube and guess what? He found the Game Show Network and even, with the time difference, was able to pick up the same episode where he'd left off in Tehran when Lucy showed up. "That Richard Dawson is really funny," RatBoy said to the swarthy gentleman in the next cage. The other feller, not so amused, went on with shaving his back, paying no attention whatsoever to the beady-eyed little Bastard.

Lucy was hailed a national hero. She arrived back at her home in Virginia, none the worse for wear. We knew all was well when she snarled at my wife and looked at the shelf that held the numerous bags of fancy dog treats. All was well until the news of Lucy's deeds broke into the news. On every channel there was RatBoy being shown in his PJ's and Nike shower shoes given all the other swarthy folks that now enjoy living on a tropical island, courtesy of the US gov't.

And every time RatBoy was shown on the tube Lucy lunged at the TV screen to try to grab him 'round the nape of his hairy neck and commence to dragging him to his destiny. Poor Lucy - her nose is about an inch shorter then it was yesterday from all the smashing up against the TV screen.

We finally had to temporarily stop watching the news altogether. So there was Richard Dawson kissing all the girls and screaming "survey said?" Lucy looked up and said to her human Mommy, "That Richard Dawson is really funny!" Then she asked for another Beggin' Strip.

Life had returned to normal and the world was saved by Lucy, the Beggin' Strip lovingest little bitch Dachshund on the planet.