Natural Born Leader

George Sr. and Don weren’t the only ones busy making a political ad spot. The Ronald and Malcolm were watching their first message of the campaign too. The message’s angle was that the world had gone to the dogs and it was raining Chihuahuas. The spot opened with a shot of a Golden Retriever and a Yellow Labrador sitting side by side. In this dog’s world, the dogs could talk. “This used to be such a lovely neighborhood,” the Golden Retriever said to the Yellow Lab. “Just look at it now.” As the two dogs sat and watched, a herd of fifty Chihuahuas paraded by them. The Chihuahuas had been hand selected by the production crew and they weren’t picked based on cuteness. Just as human actors are profiled into certain roles, these Chihuahuas were the bus station vagrants, bar drunks or fat women on buses of the dog acting world. They had skinny legs, long boney tails, round bodies, bug eyes and practically no hair. There was dubbed high pitched, irritating barking and yapping as the mob passed by. Several Chihuahuas peeled off, ran past the two watching dogs and attacked two food bowls set out behind them. “Just look at that,” the Yellow Lab complained. “It’s the same thing every morning. They come here and steal our food.” “The problem is they mate so often our breeds can’t keep up,” the Golden Retriever pointed out. The next shot showed one Chihuahua starting to mount a second one. The camera quickly panned back to the two narrating dogs. They were looking down to divert their eyes. “Oh no, there they go again,” the Golden Retriever said. “They don’t even have the decency to take it to their back yard.” “Looks like in two months we’ll have another half dozen of them running around and stealing our food,” the Yellow Lab lamented. “There are so many of them now, they’ve elected one of their own as a Senator,” the Golden Retriever went on. “Here comes Senator Ramirez.” A Chihuahua wearing a little shirt, tie and jacket vest ran into the pack. The other Chihuahuas started to jump up and down in excitement. The Senator Ramirez Chihuahua walked up to a patch of tulips and lifted its leg on them. The Ronald paused the commercial and said to Malcolm, “I still think it’d hit harder if it squatted and dropped a tiny log.” “That’s true, Sir, but it might be a little too crass for some of the audience we hope to reach,” Malcolm tried to explain to his boss. “This is effective. Everyone knows that when a dog lifts his leg like that, it isn’t doing aerobics.” They resumed the commercial and the Golden Retriever said, “There goes my favorite corner.” “It looks like we’ll have to move again,” the Yellow Lab told his friend. “I’ve already escaped them twice, but they just start showing up in the next neighborhood.” “Somebody has to do something,” the Golden Retriever pleaded. “There’s just too many of them and its only getting worse.” There was a cut to a new scene. The Golden Retriever and the Yellow Lab were sitting together on the banks of a river. The camera panned back from them and the viewer saw the pack of Chihuahuas on the other side of the river, running around and barking at each other. “Thank God for President Tripp’s border protection water deterrent,” the Golden Retriever said. “I agree, thank God for President Tripp,” the Yellow Lab agreed. “I feel safer, nobody steals our food and life is just better.” “This must be dog heaven,” the Golden Retriever closed the spot. The spot ended and Tripp repeated one of his creative inputs. Malcolm had respectably talked Tripp out of it until this point. “I still think one of the Chihuahuas should try to swim across but not make it,” Tripp said. “That would tell people the concept is sound.” “We can’t harm any of the animals, even by appearance,” Malcolm patiently told Tripp. “It has both legal and publicity downside.” “They’re like rats, for Christ’s sake,” Tripp fumed. “Who’d ever miss one of those? I’ll see about those laws when I’m President. Overall, I think it’s tremendous.” “We’ll get it aired immediately,” Malcolm pledged. “The response should be strong.”