As you stroll down the streets of glorious LA, you pause at the classified ads…one poster, basking in the sunshine, catches your eye. It reads…

Dog seeks trainer (no timewasters)

Intrigued, you read on….

Dear humans,

Having been born without fingers I have been having some trouble finessing my shooting. At first I blamed the harsh cold of Detroit which made the trigger freeze, but now I’m starting to worry it might be a recurring issue!

It started back when we moved to LA. Not sure who was allocating the shots that day, but whoever they were they saw this dog and thought Pitt Bull. Ready to put in a Hound of the Baskervilles performance I stepped up, aimed…and then at the key moment I saw a squirrel rustle in the leaves and off I went! Turns out that caused a bit of bother for a few people!

Chased it all the way to Philly, where I missed again. Mind too focused on the damned squirrel to remember I was now LA HQd and that meant this was a 12 hour shoot…whoops!

And then again today!

Now I already know I’m less shit at shooting than Matt, I proved that once when he tried setting up an HQ in a tent and made a right mess of things, tangled in bungee ropes and with a tent peg pinning him to the ground! But today, I have sunk to his level, both proing a meagre unsponsored Goomba who had gone on an unspectacular rampage.

So this is my plea for help.

I cannot take the constant abuse from Gneiss. In public I laugh off the names like BuddyBigMiss, BuddyShitGun and ProDog. But at night I lie awake howling at the moon and asking why me?

I mean for gods sake, even bloomin’ Monarch has shot more crew leaders than I have now. I didn’t even know he was still here! Turns out he is, and popping 6 hour shots as easily as rogues snuff DetroitSimon. He didn’t even request my permission for that shot! Probably knew I’d jump in and pro him first…

So if you know of any marksmanship trainers willing to teach old dogs new tricks, then please reach out to TheNewGuy who will be funding my tuition.

The garbage truck comes to a screeching halt. The sort of sudden halt that will have you jumping out your skin. Are my ears deceiving me?

No way in hell am I cleaning up after dead animals thinking they are out of their rabbit azz minds if they think I will 

I am still in control of the Sanitation and Investigation Board. As many know I had retired and placed it up for grabs. A few short hours later it  was another's headache. Fast forward. It's mine again. I did not hesitate to fork out three million buckeroos to end the bellyaching. I knew nobody was built like me to keep our streets clean. 

Today there was excessive clean up. Debris from explosions, dead rodents, excess wildlife feces, heathens running around dropping signs readong happy Tuesday. Who in the hell is happy on a Tuesday? Then the real kick in the azz, is a few thousand more heathens showed up carrying signs which will clutter our streets. 

I do believe this latest news of dogs being involved warrants the rise of a new committee. 

Thank you BuddyBigPaw for brining this urgent matter forward.  

Woof.

Firstly, I will not stand idly by and allow my good name to be dragged through the mud so let us address the elephant, or rather, the Labrador in the room.

You are absolutely a better shooter than me, BuddyBigPaw Historically. Statistically. Theoretically.

When you’re not being emotionally compromised by woodland mammals or because someone jingled some keys in a bush.

Yes, I once attempted to set up an HQ in a tent. Yes, there were, lets say structural challenges and yes, at one point I was technically in a committed relationship with a bungee cord and a tent peg.

But did I abandon my post to pursue a squirrel across state lines? No

And let’s be honest, if I am the measuring stick now, that says more about your recent form than mine.

You might be the better shooter but from the sounds of it I'm the better trained pet.