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Today, breaking from our usual duck-themed chaos, we bring you twenty-two dogs who think that the Presidential Inauguration has something to do with tea, their butts, a pizza, something they "accidentally put on the carpet," and more. This blog post is lovingly inspired by Furzly's pet blog and, of course, Buzzfeed.
On Tuesday, this dog below told us, "I have NEVER BEEN so excited—never, not ever, not ever-ever-ever. Why? Because a new president means NEW COOKIES. Everybody knows this. So where are the cookies, hm? Let’s bring them out, yes? Because WHO DOESN’T LOVE NEW COOKIES? Oh gosh, I'm so excited, my tongue might fall off!"
And as for this dog, she cries, "WHAAAAT? WHAAAAT ya SAYIN’? New PRES-ID-ENTS? Is that the same as new PRESENTS? ‘Cos guess who loves NEW PRESENTS? That would be me! I love new chewy bones, new bouncy balls, new meaty things, and new rugs to pee on—let me INAUGURATE those presents, YAAAAAH?!"
"Oh, no," says this poor old fellow. "There's been an inauguration? Like, the stuff I’m not meant to do on the carpet? ‘Cos honestly, I may possibly have done that—inaugurated the carpet, I mean. Oh, dear."
"I ain’t never heard of no President," says this dog, "but here’s my butt—you can pet it."
"You thinks I look enough-pretty?" says this dog. "For when President Bichon comes for nibbles? Because I want to look enough-pretty for my country, like a PETriot. I wanna be PETriotic—is that a thing? You thinks I look enough-pretty in me colors? Like a PETriot, yes?"
"Oooooh, boy," says this cutie. "Oooooh, no. Did I hear you right? This dog doesn’t like the IN ORGANIZATIONS. This dog NOT a trendy dog—not even close. You think the new man will notice? That I’m no member of an IN ORGANIZATION? You think?"
"Dude, you have gawt to be kidding," says this dog. "I am pawsitively knocked for stix. Talk about shocking. I mean, the whole dawg-darn country? How the woof did he get away with it?"
"Great," says this snacking bulldog, "but I thinks I might’s have overeaten of those chips now, and might be about to hurl some, so thanks for the towel."
"Soooo, what’s he want?" says this dog. "It’s good, yes? What President wants is good? He wants bubbles? Cos I got bubbles, I got LOADSA bubbles. No pressure, though. Stay chill. Yes? So, you ready for rubs? ‘Cos I’m ready."
Says this dog, "I was thinking that, if I’m a good dog, which I am, that maybe Joe—that’s his name, yes? Joe?—maybe Joe would like to in-aw-goo-rate my new tricks? Because I’m a good dog with sooo many new tricks that could be in-aw-goo-rated, and if my tricks were in-aw-goo-rated, they’d get top ratings—like A ratings, or five stars, or fifty per cent—or whatever the top per cent is. You interested in seeing my new tricks now, so I can practice at getting good in-aw-goo-ratings?"
As for this little dog, this little dog says, "What, now? You want me to get inaugurated now? But it’s so comfy here. And look how well I match my blanket. I can only really move if it’s an inaug-mergency."
This dog tells us, "So yeah, but I’m more interested in this burger and why this burger is not being food, because it looks like food, and it smells more like me than it smells of food, which is okay, but why no eating, huh? It’s freaking me out."
"Oh, that’s nice!" says this cutie. "That’s really nice, isn’t it? I think that’s totally, awfully, terribly nice for the United States of Hamerica to have a new one of those. So, what is it, exactly, and what’s it got to do with dogs? Also, have you seen my belly? Cos it’s in need of snuggles, so…."
"Dude," says this stalwart pup, "you have got to be kidding me. Joe who? And who’s that Trump guy anyway? And what the heck happened to Obama?"
"Joe Biden?" says this goofball. "I just ate the pizza that he executive-ordered. Nice guy."
"SURPRISE, Mr. President!" says this fluffball. "SURPRISE! It’s me, MISS MAGDALINE! Betcha weren’t expecting ME now, were you? So yes, SURPRISE! Surprise from MISS MAGDALINE! And guess who’s ready for PLAYTIME?"
"A new resident?" says this goober. "Uhhhh, sure. A new resident of, uh, what? The United States? Huh. I guess. I mean, I’m good with it… uhhh … as long as I don’t have to, you know, do anything."
"Oh, NOOO," says this pup. "Someone ELSE won? I thought YOU would win. Is it… something I did WRONG? Was it that poop I did on the LAWN that time? No, probably not that. But something I’ve forgotten that I SHOULDN’T have forgotten, FOR SURE. Oh, dear."
"I honestly could not be less interested," says this bulldog. "No offense or anything, but whoever this president guy is, I’m just not that bothered. I’m just here, doing my thing, wearing my swag, and being a bulldog. It’s called a CAP and it’s all I’ve really got time for. Laters."
"Oh, MAN," says this big goon, "this is SO FUNNY that I LITERALLY just fell down. Did you SEE? Did you SEE me fall down when you said there was the new WHITE HOUSE MAN? Just RIGHT OVER. Just PLOP. Splat down, like you KNOCKED ME FOR SIX. That WHITE HOUSE MAN just FLOORS ME. I am SUCH A MASSIVE GOOBER."
"OH, noooo," says this doofus. "Was I meant to BE THERE? I was, wasn’t I? I was meant to take us all to the NAUGURATION, but I totally forgot. I CANNOT BELIEVE how badly I carpet-peed this WHOLE SITUATION. What does this mean for our HUMBLE HOME?"
"Of all the low-down dirty tricks they could have played on me," says this angry baby,"they actually went and put two German Shepherds into the White House—there were NO dogs last week, and now, today, we have TWO HUGE ONES. Did they consult me on this? No, they did not. And now I hear they’ve been inaugurating behind my back. The cheek."
"WOOOAH," says this philosopher. "Mr. President, you have blown my mind. It’s like my brain’s just inaugurating all by itself. And now, here I am, the truth ballooning in my pup-sized head. “What are the odds?” I ask myself. “A new president? Color me amazed.” Nuts—that’s what it is. Man. I’m just gonna sit here, mind-blown. What a world."
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