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December 20, 2012 9:41 am

MY LOUSY WORLD: The end is really, really near

Written by Doug Blough

Only ONE shopping day left. As everyone surely knows by now, the world ends Friday, Dec. 21. Not much left to do or say at this point except to ignore loved ones and work a double-shift if available, trying to make all the money possible in what little time we have left.

With an event as monumental as what’s coming — the end of civilization, made obvious by the Mayan calendar running out of days — I’m shocked at how many people have been paying little heed, going on with their lives as if nothing was about to happen. And to be fair, it is all a little murky as to how the end will materialize and under what circumstances. But make no mistake, we are most likely goners. Calendars don’t lie.

But just in case this inevitable end-of-the-world scenario doesn’t play out like the dozens of previous predictions I’ve sweated out with last-minute prayerful groveling, a few words about traditional Christmas carols: More pets, please. That’s right: I’m an animal loving bachelor who demands more pets in his fictional festivities.

December just wouldn’t be festive without all the holly, jolly Christmas stories and carols, but they’d be much more endearing with a few dogs and kitties. In fact, not all our traditional carols are filled with jolliness or merriment, but Christmas tragedy could have been averted if only there had been a loving dog in the lyrics.

Yes, I speak of “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer,” which is sung to a cheery, snappy beat, but the gist of it is that Granny gets badly liquored up, and while staggering home pie-eyed, gets clipped by the obese guy who also probably had too much to drink and shouldn’t have been on the road.

Sadly, Granny succumbed in the cold night to her injuries, but had she had a faithful dog, there’s no way she’d have been staggering home alone. No, “Brandy” would have been by her side, alerting the old lush to the approaching, reckless reindeer. In fact, Brandy would have pushed Granny to safety and given her own life if need be. That’s how deeply Christmas carol dogs love.

Regretfully, there’s no record of any pets at the Claus residence except for his working reindeer. Poor Rudolph would not have had to suffer such humiliating rejection had there been a dog named Sparky. Sparky would have given Rudolph such loving acceptance, he couldn’t have cared less about those snobby reindeer games.

If fact, he and Sparky would have laughed for hours watching a few cute kittens chasing Rudolph’s nose beam across the snow. But with no dogs and cats to speak of, Rudolph suffered in isolation for far too long.

And then there was Mr. Grinch, who was described as having “termites in your smile,” and “You’re a three-decker sauerkraut and toadstool sandwich with arsenic sauce.” With that un-glowing tribute, Grinch obviously didn’t get many babysitting jobs. But what if Grinch had adopted a cute little dog named Britches?

Suddenly he’d be out walking Britches, cheerily chatting with passersby with nary a termite remaining in his beaming smile. All the village children would love “That wonderful Mr. Grinch and ‘his wittle Bwitches.’”

Why the sudden metamorphosis? It turns out mean Mr. Grinch wasn’t mean at all; he was simply lonely. He had never known real love, but Britches changed all that with a wag of his tail and a lick of the face.

And finally, with children nestled all snug in their beds, a family dog nearby always assures their safe awakening. Always protecting, the second a bearded intruder sneaks in via the chimney, that dog will rip his flesh to shreds and send him fleeing into the night. I defy anyone to tell me when THAT isn’t a happy ending!

A pet cartoon I saw recently certainly didn’t capture the holiday camaraderie between cats and dogs at my house. It showed a hapless dog approaching a smirking cat from behind, peering at mistletoe hung precariously from the cat’s upraised tail. The implication is clear and the intent disturbing, but a little Christmas humor never hurts.

Time to sign off now from possibly my final column in this venue. Spend your last day wisely, and I’ll see you on the other side, where I hope you’ll read my new column, “Mayan Lousy World; the sequel.”

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