CHENNAI : Hey everyone! This is the Mothership’s dog Woody here. I need your help good readers. I’m staging a protest. I know what you’re thinking: ‘How can a dog write let alone stage a protest?’ Haven’t you seen Secret Life of Pets? We can do a whole lot more than play fetch you know. So, the human’s desire to share every detail of her life on social media is getting a little out of control. Actually, it’s not every detail of her life, it’s every detail of mine. You see, till recently it was all about kids.
What they were reading, saying, doing, eating and pooping. Okay. Scratch the last one from the list. No one wants to see that. And then, the man pups grew up and realised that there was some pretty embarrassing stuff about them floating around on the Internet. I mean the last thing you want is your friends and future more than friends seeing pictures of a baby you in your underwear or doing some lame karate kick, right? So the kids wisened up and insisted that all photographs, captions and hashtags are vetted by them. WhatsApp family group is okay. Instagram with gross hashtags like #AppleOfMyEye is not.
Of course, this left the human with little else to post. So, guess what she started taking pictures of instead? Me! And when I’m doing not-so-good and not-so-obedient things. The result is pictures of me chewing newspapers, bras and trying to sniff her butt during yoga. Just a question, if you didn’t want someone to sniff your butt why would you stick it up in the air like that? It does not make sense to me.
Now, there’s nothing I can do without having her phone come out and ‘click’ having the moment captured for posterity. A lot of the time, I don’t even have to be doing anything. If you saw how many photos there are of me sleeping, it would creep you out.
Now, I can see why she might want to post pictures of me. I am adorable. You’ve seen my ears, right? And, to be honest, what else can she brag about on social media? Her cooking? Ha! You could build a house made out of those bricks she calls banana bread. Her plants? Her balcony is called the ‘plant cemetery’ by her mother and sister. Her fitness levels? She falls asleep during shavaasana. I’m kind of the most amazing thing in her life right now that’s alive and flourishing.
Sure, I like to chew the cushions, but that’s also one of the reasons she can’t post pictures of her house. She’s kind of a walking disaster, and I am the one furry brown lining in the sky. Now, I wouldn’t mind if there was something in it for me. Like brand endorsements, a lead role in the next Marmaduke movie, a lifetime supply of free belly rubs. But no, I get nothing. So, I’m protesting by playing dead. All the time. Ha! What’s she going to do now? Damn it. She just took a photo of that.