Hound, Mississippi

Normally at this time of year, I'd be miserable. As Winter's waning days give way to Spring, we arrive at yet another season I cannot stand. Spring? Bah! The only thing around here that springs is that impetuous nephew of mine who would usually take the new season as a grand excuse to get his muddy paw prints over all of my work. Yes, I said work. As many of you may or may not be aware, I am in fact employed. Self-employed, that is. I am the director for my local chapter of Canine Curmudgeons United Regionally, or as it is known to most, CCUR. This is well beside the point. This year, I am not miserable.

I am not going to be miserable because of the children who will soon be screaming and yelling as they frolic in their yards (and mine, if they are so emboldened, rascals that they are...), nor will I become miserable at the prospect of being startled out of slumber at 5 AM by those noisy birds dive bombing into my water bowl for a quick bath. I have decided to take a little trip this time around, avoiding the things I hate most about spring. That's right, good old Creak is taking a real vacation. This won't be some 'culturally oriented' mess of a trip either, folks. We're talking a curmudgeonly dog's dream. Yes sir, I'm off to Hound, Mississippi.

Hound, the last bastion of Curmudgeonly Dog-dom (before all canines are either purebred or just really damn happy), is one of Mississippi's best kept secrets. A small town Twain never would have spotted, Hound is home to some of the most colorful arthritic dogs in the world. Like Shady, the oldest dog in the village, a WWII veteran and generally dark character. And of course, Bosco is always around. Bosco is always out on his stump, trading tales of his past glory and success with the ladies, with that ridiculous corn pipe hanging out of his mouth. At any rate, it will be a welcome break from not only the winter doldrums, but also the soon to be spring doldrums.

Perhaps a visit to my beloved Hound and my old friends will even give me a respite from all the violence on the horizon. No matter what my standing in CCUR may be, or how irritating I find children, it doesn't change the fact that I, Creak the Dog, am a very political being. It angers me to hear of the impending war and the damage it will do all around, and in all likelihood cause far more harm than good. Man continually amazes me; no matter how much negativity I exude, he is always at the top of his game.

Well, I have to finalize my plans now. The train tickets are ready, my friends await, and only a few orders of business remain. Once in Hound, things will be looking up for Creak. That's for sure...things will be looking up for Creak.