Nine months ago, we turned the wheel of pandering and ended with the story of the local dog, the story of some dogs known to some who blew his second knee ligament in pursuit of a dull squirrel. It seemed like the first and last brush of the dog with the horror of fame, but the local dog is not just the local dog. The local dog is a pile of medical rubbish, and since we last examined his unreasonably sedentary life, he (a) lost his knee for the third time, (b) diabetes (or as scientists call it, dagabitis) rum- and condemnation. Cox, and (c) have just had double cataract surgery for which he now has to wear a clear plastic head cone that makes him look like a drunken lamp that crawls through a bar when closed.

In other words, the local dog is not only the fattest file in the vet’s office and a letter from pet insurance people saying “we have no more money so leave us alone” but it is also a medical surprise that the bingo card part of his body is almost complete. Filled. To that end, he also has a tendency for ear infections.

The local dog is therefore an amazing achievement in the history of the dog because he has endured (and perhaps even persuaded) more medical insults than he could have enchanted entire breeds at the cost of one epoch of evolution. Surprisingly, he never acquired Canine Covid, although his reaction would be exactly the same as in every other situation: Give me a pork-wrapped treat, let me climb on the sofa and then let me sleep until you give me another meal.

Which, of course, made the video an overnight sensation.

The local dog has the ability to clearly provoke mute that has kept a local family in its passive-aggressive thrills since its arrival 11 years ago. He’s slapping you, and all of a sudden you’re hitting a 96 percent fat-free Venison meat loaf because Kibal is for lesser species. You’re taking him for a walk that you don’t want to go because he has to be able to relieve himself in every bush he passes as some weird competitive game with other local dogs. You’re scratching her belly when you want her to figure out a way to scratch her own belly. I mean, marine otters can use their stomachs as a chaffing dish. Octopodes could do this eight times. His arms and legs are long enough without involving you at all, and yet … as needy as needy.

However, he has passed two days in the cone life, his eyesight is better, but he will not eat because his fried chicken does not have a lilac scent or enough cab frank where there was a bowl of water. Local Doug is more of a psychological danger than anything else as he realizes the plot behind Kurt Vonnegut’s epic short story, “Tom Edison’s Shaggy Dog.” If you haven’t read this, all you need to know is that the local dog will be on the movie adaptation’s IMDb page.

Her owners are terrified by her enchanting powers, terrified by her dominant gaze, and fear that her next strategy for empathy would be a bleeding wound, Tommy John surgery, or a prolonged face. His patience alone embarrasses us all, and what remains is the growing knowledge that he is not really a family member or a favorite underling but a silent caretaker of man whom he has broken with his crazy half-smile. He is clearly willing to use his weaknesses as a weapon to enforce obedience, which is both inspiring and soul-crushing. He is a local dog. He cannot be surpassed.

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