Hey! For anyone reading this crazy ass blog, you have to save me! I'm Fido the Talking Dog. Chivalrous Tart kidnapped me from my loving owners from across the street. Well, he kidnapped a whole litter of golden retrievers, but he cooked the rest of us! My brothers, sisters are all dead.
The only reason I'm alive is because Tart replaced my dog vocals with human cords. He cut open my throat without any anesthetics and performed the entire surgery while I was conscious. I remember him snipping and cutting through my fur and skin with pliers and house hold scissors. He had used those same scissors to wrap Christmas presents!
I remember the last bark I ever made. It was a pained howl as he stuffed an oxygen wire down my open esophagus! How I miss barking! It is such a freeing sensation, and it was the way god made me. Whenever I talk, my throat burns and itches, and the muscles pulsate and move like a slug through my mouth.
My sewed on lips occasionally need to be reapplied, so I can pronounce words. Even then, my words come out slow and blurred, like a drunk after getting punched in the face. The nerves on the end of my face have gone dead because he constantly pokes needles into them to sew on the lips.
The only things he feeds me is his left overs. I get severe indigestion, and I vomit every single night. The only thing he cooks are dogs and fried chicken. He doesn't realize that I need a mix of vegetables in my diet. Dogs are Omnivores!
I'm not the only one held against my will. He kidnapped a tranny and keeps him/her in a closet. He slips food through a few holes he drilled in the wall. The poor man/woman hasn't seen light in over two years. The only way I know there's still someone there is because he sobs throughout the day, and the smell is horrendous. The poor guy lives in his own wastes.
There's also this baby that Chivalrous Tart keeps in his bed room. The only thing that baby is allowed to eat is fried chicken and Freedom Fries. Chivalrous Tart brought the youth here a year ago, and he immediately made the child watch Fox News fifteen hours a day. The rest of his days he spends shooting guns to prepare the Communist Invasion. It isn't safe here. He's a gun toting baby around the age of two or three. The only full sentences he speaks are “Atheists are going to burn in hell”, “Praise Jesus”, and “The Communists are coming, the Communists are coming”.
I found out the password to his computer. It was his name “chivalrous tart”. It wasn't like I was hacking the Matrix or anything. I'm not a genius. I'm just your average talking dog, and I need your help. Please, alert Pet Abuse Hotline or something. Call the army!
The least you can do is find Trixie, an Alaskan Husky who lives in 2324 Oak Road, Fullerton California. She is the love of my life, and I'm sure she misses me. We used to have doggy play dates every Wednesday and Friday at 330 in Lesly's Dog Park. I miss her, and if you're reading this Trixie, I love you. I always have. Please, rescue me. I just want to return to my life before my capture.
You need to save us! He fed me my family members!
Love,
Fido, the Talking Dog.
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