Sir-Lix-A-Lot

My name is Sir-Lix-A-Lot but my homies just call me “Lix” for short. My crib is at 5309 Dogwood Lane…next to the back porch, to be fair. I have a doggie door but when my human is away I prefer to protect my turf.

My turf just happens to be the back yard that I pee and poop in.

My human loves listening to rap music and so by hearing it around the crib all the time, it’s become MY favorite listening pleasure too.

I’ve always dreamt of becoming a rapper. The image of a rapper just fits me. I love to act tough and defiant like a baaad OG protecting my “turf” from vicious squirrels.

It’s an image I struggle with because I’m not taken very seriously as a “dawg” in my hood. Apparently I’m simply too friendly and I love to lick humans, which is how I got my nickname.

I guess you don’t come across as all that intimidating when you’re all too eager to lick everyone you come in contact with. I lick everyone. Intruders, cats, myself, even the mailman. Besides, how tough can a “ferocious” dawg look with his tail violently wagging?

And does anyone else find this confusing? Since we’ve heard from our time as pups that humans are the higher life form (in fact the HIGHEST life form), then why is it that when we squat and “throw down,” THEY put a plastic bag on their hand and pick up after US?

Shouldn’t WE be picking up after THEM? I’ve noticed that I’ve now developed this kind of attitude after I poop, “Don’t just stand there, git on it!” Is this wrong?

So since my lick substitutes as my bite, then clearly my image is just really about me “frontin.” In fact, here’s a poem I’m just finishing up that I’m going to use as a rap bit about my gift. I’m calling it, “Rap Solid.”

* Rap Solid *

Although I love a rappers rap

I don’t smoke weed but love to nap

I ain’t that bad, I’m not that tough

So when I’m mad it’s just a bluff

Some things I do appear as rude

I’d sell my mom if offered food

I’ll lick myself most anyplace

Then sniff your butt and lick your face

My home boy is a gangsta too

A Shar Pei breed who’s always true

His wrinkled skin and big caboose

All wrinkled up and hanging loose

I’m not the bad boy I may seem

This gangsta image, just a dream

I don’t do drugs, I’ve got no gun

It’s all an act, I’m having fun

I’m not the baddest dawg in town

I usually “bounce” if things go down

You’ve got no street cred, got no shot

Once you’ve been called “Sir Lix-a-Lot”

The end.

I’m going to try this out this evening with my dawgs when my human takes me to the dog park.

I loves me some dog park. It’s the only chance I get to hang with my homies. Plus there’s that smokin French Poodle that’s usually there. Oh yeah, she does it for me. And that “swing” on her back porch? Ooh la la, she’s fine!

Her human calls her, “Joaqui.” It’s different, but it sounds right.

Joaqui hit it off with ME because I always came to her defense when the other horn dogs kept trying to mount her. It’s really the only time I truly feel aggressive. I guess I get a little “peanut butter and jealous” when it comes to Joaqui.

I always like it whenever another dawg shows up to the dog park because all the other dawgs then run to the gate to get their sniff on. It buys me a a little relief from fending off all the “happy humpers.”

And that French accent when she barks, it just makes me howl. She won me over when she said it looks cute how I strut around like a gangsta looking all bad.

Too bad I only get to see her when the weather’s nice since her human keeps her so dolled up that they don’t come to the dog park if it’s been raining or snowing. It gets too muddy and they like to keep Joaqui well groomed.

Well, my human just got home from his job. Time to start going nuts. I don’t know what comes over me when I hear him pull into the driveway.

I start running in circles barking my head off until he opens the door. Then I run and get my chew toy and jump all over him. He’ll always try to grab it but I run away and we usually play a game of “Catch me if you can.”

But for some reason, today he cut our greeting and play time short because he said he’s noticed how me and a certain poodle were becoming a little too friendly. He said “It’s time to take me to the vet so I can be tutored?”

What the heck does THAT mean?