Pleeeeeeeeease, pleeeeeeeease gentle passer-by, pleeeeeeeeease help us.
We’ve been abducted.
We are being taken away, against our will.
Taken away from our doggy baskets by the stove.
This man is nuts.
This man is dangerous,
This man is insane.
He is actually convinced that we love to go walkies.
This delusional, selfish, nasty individual believes that we like nothing better than tear ourselves away from our cocoons of warmth to go to Seapoint.
Seapoint?! Of all places… It’s a dump!
It’s cold. It’s wet. It’s windy.
And he finds nothing better to do than throw our stick in the water. In the water?! I ask you…
This is Ireland in December and he throws the shaggin stick in the icy cold water. Surely, there has to be laws against this kind of carry-on? What is the ISPCA doing?
And all the sand… It sticks into our coats and then it takes forever to get rid of all of it in the doggy baskets.
Oh, Rusty, I think I’ve managed to catch his eye!
Rex, quick, do the eyes. Quick!
Do the sad puppy eyes. Altogether. Pleeeeeeeeeeeease!
Rusty, start raising the ISPCA number, slowly, slowly, Pol Pot up there could be checking what we’re up to in his rear mirror.
Rex, remember the last scene of Lassie The Final Chapter, when he dies in the arms of the little boy. You are Lassie. You are the little boy. You are the Sadness of the World.
Look at him guys, look at him, I think he has noticed us.
He is our only chance.