The Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences has awarded a special Oscar to dogs for their convincing portrayal of man’s best friend. Other creatures in the Animal Kingdom felt slighted by their exclusion, but admitted, “We can’t compete with those lovable brownnosers. They just completely rollover for humans. Literally. And once you start rubbing their belly and they begin that cutesy spastic leg kick….we’re toast. It’s no wonder they get all the chew toys they want. Like they need any more. As it is now the males carry around their favorite chew toy with them full time .”

 

The award was for Best Species in a Supporting Role. What else would it be for? Best animated short? The award is usually given to bees for their tireless work in pollinating everything we eat. For the services they provide we should be scooping their poop. The award was completely unexpected and some dogs were rather sheepish in accepting it, unlike last year when some sheep were rather dogged in accepting theirs. The ceremony was held at the Betty White Kennel Club in El Segundo, CA. In accepting the award, Meryl, a high-spirited Jack Russell Terrier owned by Anne Hathaway, bounded up to the podium and began sniffing its base for an uncomfortably long period of time. After a few, “Here girl! Up here girl.” She eventually got up on 2 legs, placed her left and right paw astride the podium and yowled her acceptance speech to Hollywood dog whisperer Allie Madison who speaks fluent Terrier. Ms. Madison then translated Meryl’s yowls into barken English: 

“I accept this award on behalf of my slobbering brethren everywhere. With this award we know the answer to the age old question, ‘Who’s a good boy?’ It’s us. We are a good boy. Oh, yes we are. Yes, yes, yes. And although I’ll keep this award at my private dog house in the gated community behind Anne’s mansion, this award is really for all the mutts everywhere whose dreams are bigger than their matted fur. This is for the jowliest Hound Dog who may appear to be something more than he is, but in reality – ain’t nothing but a Hound Dog. And here’s a woof-out to our owners. They are the answer to the same question every morning, ‘Who let the dogs out?’ It was them. They let the dogs out. Our bladders salute you, Oh and ah, thanks for picking up after us. We’d never do that for you.”

Some of the other canine celebrants were upset Meryl was chosen once again to represent them, sparking one of Glenn Close’s many Dalmatians (Milli) to snark, “Meryl always gets nominated. It’s like the rest of us don’t even exist.” Since the snide remark came from a dog it didn’t seem catty. By the way, Milli was fashionably swathed from paw to snout in Versace chiffon, while Meryl was positively fetching in her Dior collar (when is a dog not fetching?). Many academy members were perplexed the award was even issued to such a narrow group. Prompting one Hollywood producer to complain, “Why are we doing this? This is a target audience that drinks from the toilet bowl. Until we perfect Smell-o-Vision, they aren’t going to add to our bottom line.”

 

Woofing Jazz

As the band tried to play her off, Meryl seized the microphone (as best she could without opposable thumbs) and went on a half rant, half manifesto which Ms. Madison faithfully translated: 

“Be it known to all humans, if we are to continue as your loyal and best friends, there are a few conditions which must be met:

1.   First of all, we know we are a good boy. You never have to ask us that question again. Ever.

2.   Although you don’t realize it, just before we lick your face; we lick our junk. Nah-nah.

3.   We don’t like running as much as you think. Fetch was fine when you threw the ball yourself, but now with these new shoulder-mounted catapult ball launchers, we have to run a quarter mile just to get to the stupid thing. Enough.

4.   Additionally, never again fake the throw. We look like idiots when you do that and will throw up on the carpet if it continues.

5.   We admit you guys are kinda cool walking around on two legs and all. But when it comes to having real fun, you do it our style don’t you?

6.   And finally, putting us down is fine, as long as we have the same option with you.”

 

The Post Award Banquet

At the after-hours party held at a dumpster behind a Krispy Kreme on La Cienega Blvd, Meryl was asked why dogs engage in such an elaborate ruse in acting like man’s best friend. “Simple,” Ms. Madison translated. “Food. Now we don’t have to hunt for rancid antelope meat in those flea-bitten rabid packs of ours. You know thinning the herd may sound good in theory, but it’s no bonus for us. It usually means we get to eat the sick or stupid ones. How would you like sinking your teeth into the infected lymph nodes of a dumb zebra with head lice? Well neither do we. But by giving y’all unconditional love, we get dry food and wet food and occasionally the Holy Grail – table scraps. And God forbid you leave a meatloaf unattended…hoo boy! You can’t even scold us because you know it’s in our nature to do that. Like the regular movement of the tides or the regular rehabilitation of Lindsay Lohan.” 

By now the 3 day old jelly donuts Meryl had scarfed from the dumpster were fermenting in her stomach and doing most of the talking. Ms. Madison faithfully translated Meryl’s boozy soliloquy:

“And while it’s true that neutering is the kind of collateral damage we could do without, that’s really a male problem…well, except when we’re in heat. Hey ya wanna know something? Just to see how the other half lives my boyfriend and I once tried doin’ it Missionary Style. At first I didn’t want to, but he kept saying, ‘Aww c’mon. Don’t be such a bitch.’ And I said to’em, ‘But I am a bitch. I’m a fetching bitch at that. Deal with it.’”  

As the oozing berry filling of 13 jelly donuts continued to ferment in her belly, Meryl spilled her guts on things dogs should never discuss and began speaking in barken English, but with a thick Jack Russell Terrier accent: “I feel free to tell you this because no one will believe it anyway – Oswald’s dog Nikita said he acted alone. And Christ’s dog Superstar, verified all his miracles including the time Jesus changed pebbles into kibble or was it Pebbles into Bam-Bam. And finally, although no one ever believes this because it’s very convoluted, there are atheist dyslexic dogs who don’t believe in god or dog. I’m really drunk.”

Meryl wolfed a few caffeine laden Mochaccino donuts and began to sober up: “The key to our believability is that we never judge the human. No matter where they flick their boogers or how many DoubleStuff Oreos they eat. We see humans at their worst – naked in the morning. We render complete and unconditional love by anxiously waiting for their next great idea. And we continue to love them no matter how puffy they get or how poorly they wipe. All we do is wag our little tail or come when you call and you treat us like family. Now if mankind could take a lesson from that, John Lennon wouldn’t have had to write Imagine.”

 

Truth is Everywhere

The next morning as Meryl was recovering from her Krispy Kreme hangover in the palatial confines of her two story doghouse; she nuzzled her little stuffed beagle. The one Ms. Hathaway had gotten for her when she was just a puppy. She playfully woofed at the supposedly inanimate object and cooed, “Who’s a good boy. Is it you? Well yes you are. You are momma’s little chicken pot pie. Yes you are.” 

The stuffed beagle, aroused by the bestowal of Meryl’s unconditional love, stirred to life and became self-aware. The formerly stuffed beagle surmised her situation and thought, “All I have to do is lie here and wait for Meryl’s next great idea and I receive all this warmth and affection. Wow! Praise be to Trickle Down Lovenomics. There should be an award for this. Then again maybe love is its own reward.”