This series is based on true stories from the life of Queen Rhodesia (Rhodee) - half dog, half monarch of apartment 4P at 222 Central Avenue.
As told by Rhodee. Translated from dog to english by Christopher with help from Cesar Millan:
4:52am.
I need to pee. Actually, I need to poo, but it makes no difference to the fact that I need to get out of this steel box the two legged fur-less dog keeps me in at night. I've always wondered how he's got no fur and all other dogs do, and that he can walk on two legs like a human. Sometimes I think he's a human, but the way he sleeps all day, and runs around and pees outside like me, and all that fur on his face and head, tells me that he's 100% dog.
4:59am.
I still need to pee. I know DogMan just took me outside a couple hours ago because he was up late sitting at his big wooden crate looking at that big book that makes noise with light coming out of it, but I need to get out.
5:01am.
Alright, this is getting unbearable. If I don't get out soon, DogMan is gonna have to fill my water bowl with some cranberry juice for the next two weeks. Worse yet, he might just have to be washing the pee out of my fur and wishing I was fur-less like him. I wonder why he just won't give me that spare key and stop treating me like I'm Paul Bernardo. He thinks I'm gonna lose the key in the elevator again? I know I don't have any thumbs, but he doesn't need to discriminate. I should call PETA, but he took my blackberry away cause I was running up his bill for sending tastefully nude photos of myself to that rottweiler with the gold collar in apartment 4G. Can't knock my hussle, DogMan!
5:05am.
Time to initiate operation stink bomb. I need to ease out silent but deadly farts in 30 second intervals. I don't want them to be loud enough to wake him up, but I want him to be smelling that skunk-like stench in his dreams.
5:09am.
Eight farts down and I can see him starting to squirm a little in his bed. I know he just read Hunger Games, so he's probably dreaming that he's being chased by mutts through a cesspool or something. Worse yet, he might think he's drowning in a public toilet. I had that nightmare once and couldn't sleep for days after.
5:10am.
I think I just prairie dogged one.
5:15am.
K, he's finally starting to get up. I think he realizes that if he leaves me in here any longer tomorrow I might stay up all night plotting on how to kill him by stench in his sleep.
5:26am.
Phew, finally outside and I just realized I didn't really have to go that bad. I really could've let DogMan's alarm wake him up at 7. That'll teach his smart ass from making me sleep in a damn prison.
As told by Rhodee. Translated from dog to english by Christopher with help from Cesar Millan:
4:52am.
I need to pee. Actually, I need to poo, but it makes no difference to the fact that I need to get out of this steel box the two legged fur-less dog keeps me in at night. I've always wondered how he's got no fur and all other dogs do, and that he can walk on two legs like a human. Sometimes I think he's a human, but the way he sleeps all day, and runs around and pees outside like me, and all that fur on his face and head, tells me that he's 100% dog.
4:59am.
I still need to pee. I know DogMan just took me outside a couple hours ago because he was up late sitting at his big wooden crate looking at that big book that makes noise with light coming out of it, but I need to get out.
5:01am.
Alright, this is getting unbearable. If I don't get out soon, DogMan is gonna have to fill my water bowl with some cranberry juice for the next two weeks. Worse yet, he might just have to be washing the pee out of my fur and wishing I was fur-less like him. I wonder why he just won't give me that spare key and stop treating me like I'm Paul Bernardo. He thinks I'm gonna lose the key in the elevator again? I know I don't have any thumbs, but he doesn't need to discriminate. I should call PETA, but he took my blackberry away cause I was running up his bill for sending tastefully nude photos of myself to that rottweiler with the gold collar in apartment 4G. Can't knock my hussle, DogMan!
5:05am.
Time to initiate operation stink bomb. I need to ease out silent but deadly farts in 30 second intervals. I don't want them to be loud enough to wake him up, but I want him to be smelling that skunk-like stench in his dreams.
5:09am.
Eight farts down and I can see him starting to squirm a little in his bed. I know he just read Hunger Games, so he's probably dreaming that he's being chased by mutts through a cesspool or something. Worse yet, he might think he's drowning in a public toilet. I had that nightmare once and couldn't sleep for days after.
5:10am.
I think I just prairie dogged one.
5:15am.
K, he's finally starting to get up. I think he realizes that if he leaves me in here any longer tomorrow I might stay up all night plotting on how to kill him by stench in his sleep.
5:26am.
Phew, finally outside and I just realized I didn't really have to go that bad. I really could've let DogMan's alarm wake him up at 7. That'll teach his smart ass from making me sleep in a damn prison.
DogMan LOL
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