Hello out there! Picasso here. Not the painter. He’s dead. And it’s possible every other Human Bean on the planet is, too! The Beans weren’t so bad, really. I mean my Beans weren’t, anyway. They treated me right, fed me, walked me, took me to the vet, gave me pills for heartworm and fleas, and, of course, I have the greatest dog bed in the history of dogdom. That’s right! A Tempurpedic of my very own! Why, I lie down on it and it conforms with every twist and turn of my doggie physique. It sort of becomes one with you. I’m not saying it’s a religious experience, but it’s as close as you can come to it with a piece of foam!
My Beans were spiritual people. They didn’t hurt anybody. They did good stuff for their friends and neighbors and were always helping out with charity and stuff. The big Alpha Bean the kids called “Dad”, and the big female Bean the kids called “Mom”. But the big Beans called each other by different names. “Harry” and “Roberta”, “Honey”, “Sweetie”, “Sugar-Pop”, “Twinkie”, and so on. They had other names for when they were fighting, but the doggie oath doesn’t permit me to use those kinds of words. Mostly they called me “Picasso”, but sometimes the kids called me other things. Suzie would call me “Pickardo” which wasn’t so bad, but Timmy would call me “Asso” which he thought was the funniest thing he could say and still get away with it. Fortunately they weren’t the kind of kids that were mean to us animals, so they never duct taped my hind legs together, put Mom’s pantyhose on my head, or hung me out the bedroom window by my leash. So I guess I was lucky. Beans are a lot different than dogs. You never know what you’re going to get with a Human Bean with their mouths moving one way and their brains going another. Beans are a lot different than doggies, probably cause they aren’t near as smart and their noses are practically useless. I mean a Bean has about as good a sense of smell as a baseball. At least that’s how we doggies see it. It’s possible that this is why the Beans are always fighting with each other and mistrusting everybody.
For some evolutionary reason the Beans’ mouths became their most important orifice (and with so many to choose from!). Our ancestor, Charles Dogwin said it happened when the Beans stood up on their hind legs. Now their noses were three feet off the ground (That’s right! ancient Beans were about a yard tall! Ask Charles Dogwin!). With their noses so high in the sky they lost touch with the good ‘ole planet Earth and all the great smells that could comfort them, warn them, feed and inform them. For a doggie smelling stuff is like going to college on how to live the good life.
The most important lesson is that smells don’t lie. They are 99.999% accurate! The Beans gave this all up when they stood up to look around. So over thousands of years they lost their sense of smell, but their mouths got a lot bigger. For example, a doggie never has to say “Where are we?” cause his nose always tells him. But Beans often don’t know where they are and, of course, if they differ in opinion, they’re most likely going to get into a fight over it. Then they will often use their fists to settle the disagreement. Now a dog can’t make a fist cause we don’t have thumbs. You can make a very strong case that a good nose is better than a bad thumb!
The Beans have learned to use their mouths so well that they can do all sorts of things with it, but the worst thing they learned was to use their mouths to lie. We doggies were sad for the Beans sometimes. It must be a hard life not to know when something is true or not. We canines don’t have that problem, thank dog. When you smell a doggie’s poo place you know he’s not lying about anything! That’s right!
I guess I miss the Beans, though. They took care of me and now I have to look after myself, GeeGee and Franz, and now Chopper. Still, I think it’s better without the Beans or at least without their mouths and tvs. What do you think? I’ll take a poo place for truth telling over a mouth any day!
Much more important is that Chopper is getting better. We found some kale and lettuce and broccoli and mixed them up in a blender for Chopper. There wasn’t a juicer in the kitchen (I guess the Beans weren’t THAT spiritual) but we’re gonna get one from Bed Bath and Bone right away. Chopper slurped up the vege-mess as best he could and in a couple of hours he seemed stronger.
He told us a lot about his life. He is the fiftieth son of a farm dog who spent his youth running in fields and chasing racoons for fun. One day a strange thing happened. Some men showed up in suits with big machines behind them. The next thing Chopper knew he was hiding out in a clump of trees watching a bunch of Beans and bulldozers turn his beautiful home into a tar pit that was packed so hard nothing could ever grow on it. This made a big impression on Chopper. He realized the Beans didn’t care very much about the good ‘ole earth.
By the way, Chopper told us why he doesn’t eat meat. He said back on the farm, every once in a while, some of his farm friends, a sheep, a cow, the chickens and ducks, would be killed by the Beans and they would eat them! When Chopper saw this, how his friends were dying so a Bean could have a hamburger or a chicken salad sandwich, he got so sick he vowed never to eat anything that had a face on it (I don’t know if that includes clocks, but it’s an unlikely scenario). That’s when he became a vegan and he does okay with it. Not many doggies could have lived through whatever happened to Chopper! Maybe it’s because he’s a vegan! It’s funny, though, I always thought my food came from a can or a bag. Now I know some animal gave its life for me to chow down. I’m gonna have to think about that some more. What do you think?
When Chopper had to leave his wonderful farm home he started to see the world in a different way. He saw how all the Beans acted when they were crowded up together in towns and cities. He saw the real serious looks on their faces and he saw their mouths were always moving. Chopper became a very suspicious doggie indeed and never wanted a family of Beans to adopt him. He preferred the company of dogs more, but probably liked being alone best of all. That way he could wear his backwards baseball cap and gold chain and no one would ask any questions about it.
Speaking of questions, the one question Chopper wouldn’t answer was what had happened to him to get so beat up and all. He just turned his head away when we asked and became real quiet till we changed the subject. I think he has PDSD (Post Dogmatic Stress Disorder!) cause GeeGee and Franz and me can smell the fear on him when we asked. Like I said, nobody can keep a secret from a doggie with a good shnoz!