A Small Loan of a Million Dollars (And Other Things Making Fun of Trump)

An Animalection Continued

  Have you ever felt so simply, utterly confused at others that you can't even think? Have you been totally, completely embarrassed by the choices of your elders? My life is over. Have you ever just wanted to growl, howl, whimper, and chase your tail all at once? Dangmerica, we're over. 

 It was a warm fall day here at Dangmerica's Puppy Palace (DPP). A day of grave suspense, but not among humans such as yourself. They were naive and foreign when it came to the actions of my community. Plus, they were in the midst of drama of their own. It was something regarding an inauguration of some kind? You would be enlightened to know we were in the midst of an election ourselves. We are the proud pet community of DPP. Some of us are power-hungry and slightly conceited. These few are, obviously, politicians. 

Only months ago we held a debate between the nominees of our parties (Democat and Repuplican.) One is a tabby cat and seasoned politician, both of which resulted in wide disdain by the dog community. Her name is Mrs. Mitten. The other is a hound, the color of carrot flavored dog chow, and new to politics. He has a large mound of very interesting fluffy fur atop his head, and extremely small paws. His name is Dump. As the debate began, we all snuggled up in our pens and watched quietly, tails raised. The two animals circled each other, aggressively. Then, they resentfully shook paws and took their places. 

Mrs. Mitten began. "Hello my friends. I stand here before you representing many things. I represent pet equality- "  

  Dump interrupted. "Wrong." Mitten continued for another minute, then Dump had his turn, not even attempting to emulate a standard politician. "The chihuahuas are stealing our food, they're stealing our walks. We need to build a fence, and we need to make it huge! Believe me, they're ruining us bigly. Also, Mitten should be in a kennel. Make Dangmerica woof again! Thank you, thank you." 

The two of them continued debating for hours. After weeks, they finally held the election. While each had a paw-full of devoted followers, both candidates also carried with them lots of baggage. Mrs. Mitten was stuck with the dark cloud left by her pee-mails, found in an illegal litterbox. Dump mocked many different groups of pets, and even had his favorite blue bird chew toy taken away from him by his owner, Kellyanne Conway, for "bad behavior." But, there would be no way to evade the choice we had to make. One of them would be our next president. My paws shook, my fur rattled. I watched in suspense.Seconds passed like minutes, minutes passed like hours, hours passed like days. 

Finally, a few hours before the sun came up the next morning, a conclusion had been drawn. "Congratulations, Mr. Dump. You are president elect of Dangmerica."I continue to wonder what Dump and Mitten were thinking in that moment. Mitten must have expected a win, but exactly how much did her heart sink? Was she terribly upset? And Dump, was he proud? Excited? Apprehensive? 

 No, this can't be, was the immediate thought process of many. Meanwhile, I saw a handful of old golden retrievers cheering, barking, tails wagging so hard I thought they might fall off. I watched a mastiff leave with hopeless, solemn chocolate eyes. I saw Dump come off the stage and greet his daughters and mate, all Afghan Hounds. I watched him greet his sons, 3 Doberman Pinschers. I watched a large family of mix-breeds leave, whimpering. I sat among a group of cats, whose whiskers were shaking.