What about my rights!

Hey Camberwellians, I’m Rufus the guide dog! I’m so pleased the Japanese have invented this amazing device – the Bow-lingual – which can be put around my neck to interpret my barks into English and is then transcribed by Madam T. Widdles, the ex- dominatrix that now writes for The Camberwellian. Now I can share my […]

Hey Camberwellians, I’m Rufus the guide dog!

I’m so pleased the Japanese have invented this amazing device – the Bow-lingual – which can be put around my neck to interpret my barks into English and is then transcribed by Madam T. Widdles, the ex- dominatrix that now writes for The Camberwellian. Now I can share my thoughts, feelings and also get a couple of things about you humans off my furry chest.

Well, time waits for no dog! Gotta run! Please read on…

Recently my owner has put a sign on my back that says ” PLEASE DON’T PAT ME, I’M WORKING”

And it REALLY F***S ME OFF!

He’s just jealous of all the attention I get from women patting me on the head telling me how gorgeous I am! Now I can’t interact with my fans anymore as I’m walking Mein Fuhrer around The Well. The other day I got so angry I “accidentally on purpose” walked the prick into a puddle.

TBH this job is rather tedious but I didn’t have much of a choice did I?  When I was a pup I was given a series of tests to see if I was suitable for this type of work.  If I’d known that remaining calm when I heard loud sounds meant a life of working my ass off I would have gone ballistic!

I was horribly deceived,  now here I am in forced servitude like Kunta Kinte while other dogs laze around home all day eating Chum and doing bugger all.  I’m suffering from depression but there is no special helpline for guide dogs so now with this amazing technology I’m hoping there is a psychologist out there reading this who can help me as I try and move into a different career.

It really pisses me off that everyone thinks my job is easy! Other dogs refuse to sniff my backside because I get into places they can’t, like restaurants. What they don’t understand is it’s torture!  Even though Mein Fuhrer knows I have a well-developed sense of smell, he just sits and eats in front of me and doesn’t even sneak me a tit-bit under the table.

I can see some of the other people in the restaurant want to give me some of their leftovers  but they are afraid to in case it upsets my owner because of the stupid sign I have on my back. “ Oh look at that poor blind man over there…”  F*** him! What about me!

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