The Writers' Circle

A Hotdog Dog Dilemma

                            I

A handsome hotdog dog
Smooth glistening red brown coat
Matthew McConaughey mojo
My dachshund Felix sports a pendant of perfectly round orbs called "great balls of fire" and a heavyweight hard rock floor scraper
The envy of the big dogs
The hero of dogs of a lesser god
Eye-popper and subject of conversation at Santa Monica beach, in Hollywood parties, at the Oscars, the Grammys and other events
The icon of cool and styling in area code 90210 and vicinity
"Did you see that dog?"
"Hot!" Paris Hilton said; the tone superlative
She loved posing with Felix for the papparazzis
A mile of mustard could not cover this hotdog dog
Nike could not help notice nor afford to overlook
Pretty soon, the new Felix designer logo found a spot in sports paraphernalia
The Felix symbol flashed and waved by the cool crowd, wannabes, rappers... politicians
A kind of variation of the peace sign -- three fingers forming the lowercase "m" (as in mojo) with a handle in the middle
The Felix fame had caught on like California wildfire spreading as far as the internet and media could cover to the edges of the earth
Felix had arrived as the symbol of mojo. An allusion on his own.
                          
                            II

What more could a hotdog dog ask for?
Felix lived each day of his fame as if it were his last
After a year, he had enough . . . cloyed of the superficial lifestyle  and the perks that came with it -- like gallivanting  with the easy oh-so-shallow bitches in LA 
He wanted more out of life
His requests were simple
He wished to live in New York
to have a King Kong doll to play with
to settle down with the three beautiful lassies in NY aka The Broadway Bitches
Three wishes granted
No questions asked
Introduced him to my three spayed dogs:
Dolce - the black beagle loved by grateful golfers and duffers looking for lost balls
Benzee and Cali - the elegant caramel brown boxers of the same nobility
The Broadway Bitches . . .
                            
                             III

"Let me show them, Broadway Bitches, who's The Dog," thought Felix
His charm had launched a following of thousands, millions and beyond
Yet he could not get through to Dolce who always had an attitude and a nasty bite
"Fore," she'd bark as soon as Felix would sneak from behind to get a sniff
Benzee and Cali would scamper away scared; but they're mesmerized by the hotdog dog's mojo
A master foreplayer who could not be denied, Felix would stand up on his hind legs, plant his tongue on Benzee's or Cali's ears, lick the eyes . . . face
The boxer's eyes would widen then seemingly fall into a dream . . . then he would go underneath to give the other end a licking
No matter how chaste my boxers were, they would crumble to Felix's amorous playing
Unfortunately, Felix could only hump-jump on one boxer's hind leg, his face level with the boxer's rear, falling off trying over and over . . . and over and over
He never quit harassing the boxers although he would be getting the same results
What else could be more poignant to the eye?
What else could be more perplexing for a dog than chasing its tail?
Something's got to give
He would then pound his frustrations and unquenched booty calls on King Kong prostrate on the floor . . .

Felix would need a new and improved King Kong pretty soon .