“Sam, don’t you think it’s weird to eat a food shaped like you?
“How can I resist. This food truck is called Hot Dawg. Just like me,” Sam said. He winked at her as he stuffed his long dachshund body into the line ahead of a Chihuahua, who offered Sam a sharp bark and then carried on shaking.
“Suit yourself. I am not eating here. I’m going to the raw food truck,” said Polly and pranced away as only a standard poodle can.
Sam growled his annoyance at her under his breath. Polly was always busting his non-existent balls about his diet, not to mention his weight. She was always bleating on about the benefits of eating raw food and blah, blah, blah, but Sam would rather be stir-fried alive than eat that crap. He turned his attention back to the menu.
Car Ride – Our mouth-watering bacon wrapped all meat dawg with blue cheese, chipotle mayo on a brioche bun is way better than a car ride.
Dog Walk – This simple all meat dawg with mustard, Ketchup, onions and cheese tucked into a housemade bun is familiar like a walk on a warm day.
Snoop Doggy Dawg – Get high on this all meat dawg. We take our famous dawg, wrap it in a pepperoni pizza, waft it with the smoke of a good joint and deep fry it, dude. You won’t know if it’s Tuesday or August – or will you care!
Vet Visit – Eat this all meat dawg at your own risk. Piled high with our famous Five Alarm Chili and six kinds of cheese all wrapped in a tortilla and deep-fried. Drizzled with a side of really sour cream, really!
“Everything all looks so good,” he said loudly.
“The Chihuahua agreed with a head nod in between the full body shakes. Sam assumed this tiny nerd dog would choose the Dog Walk.
A bulldog snorted his approval and said with a gruff growl, “I’m having the Snoop Doggy Dawg.”
“That one is tempting, but I think it’s the Vet Visit for me.”
Sam heard Polly’s annoyed voice bounce around in his head: You have to choose the worst one? Really? You’ve got problems. Don’t talk to me about your liquid poop problems. Not interested. Stop talking. What did I say?
“Which dawg strikes your fancy, dog?” A Siamese cat from the window of the food truck asked Sam.
“Give me the Vet Visit.”
“Excellent choice, sir.”
The cat left the window and returned a few minutes later with a large, beige dog-shaped package and handed it over to Sam.
Sam devoured the hot dawg and most of the wrapper in seconds flat. He was heading back to find Polly when the first stomach cramp grabbed him. The second one was so powerful his legs buckled. He needed to find the toilet. He made a beeline towards the port-a-potties and discovered a massive line of creatures wanting to dump the contents of their bladders or bowels or both in one of the three potties.
“Progressiveness is sooo great,” Sam said to Golden Retriever in line ahead of him. “Remember when we could just drop a deuce wherever and whenever we needed to and your human would pick it up. I miss those days. Look at us now. Lining up to poop because we are all “civilized” now.”
“I hear you, bro. I used to shit from the sky and now look at me,” said a dirty pigeon standing behind him.
A mean cramp gripped Sam. He needed to go. He made an executive decision and headed towards the pocket of trees just behind the port-a-potties. He looked back at the portable toilets and was shocked to see the cat from the Hot Dawg truck pumping brown liquid from one of the toilets into a vat of meat. Sam gagged just as a cramp seized him. He turned and headed to the trees.