Deconstructing Bruno

12 June 2011

No Quiero Taco Bell

Hi, I’m Bruno, Rupert’s chihuahua, and he has invited me to do a guest blog. I’m so thrilled!

When I asked Rupert what I should write about, he said: “Tell the people about the two Brunos, El Bruno Bueno, y el Bruno Malo.”

Andale! (That’s Spanish for “Let’s Go!”)

The Good Bruno: I don’t eat much (a big bag of chow lasts three months), I can be affectionate at times, I don’t mind sleeping on my own, and I like to comfort people when they are sad. And….that’s about it.

The Bad Bruno, well, gee, the list is kinda long: I still take dumps in the house (I’m 7 years old, so as far as becoming house broken? No, Senor!), I bark at EVERYONE who passes within 8 miles of the house, making a weird wailing noise that makes people clap their hands over their ears like the guy in the Edvard Munch painting, and — here’s the weirdest part — in a kind of reverse psycho guard dog move, I charge at Rupert every time he tries to leave the house, and have even on occasion bitten him on the trouser cuff, ripping it.

Why do I do that? My theory is that many years ago, my ancestors used to sit around the campfire with their Aztec Masters, and when one of them tried to leave the campfire, knowing there would be coyotes, mountain lions and other bad things out there that might eat them, they tried to warn them: “Oye, ‘mano, no te vayas!”

I have to go now, but maybe Rupert will let me write another guest blog someday. Adios!

Rupert Scofield


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