(The following was submitted to the Heckler office covered in slobber and paw prints)

Hi there, it’s me, JJ. Remember me, your former-future mascot? Well, I know that many of you are as unhappy about leaving as I am, so I wanted to let you know what really happened that fateful day last fall. Some in the administration kept making accusations about me being a “bad dog”, and I felt the need to defend myself. The truth is that I was framed by a malicious administration and a toddler who couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

It was a fateful day last fall when I found myself walking around campus, drinking my bottled glacier water and looking for things to pee on. As I was walking over, some kid came absolutely hurtling towards me as fast as his paws would allow, with his owners well behind. Now, don’t get me wrong, I’m always glad to see a fellow puppy, albeit one with far less hair, but there are limits. Limit #1: pet me wherever, but not inside my mouth, a rule that the ever-accelerating pup did not obey, ending his run with his hand in my mouth.

Now, I want you to put yourself in my shoes. I wasn’t even 7 dog years old, and somebody had shoved something salty and squishy into my mouth, entirely by surprise. When you, dear reader, were a puppy, didn’t you try to bite everything you could, especially if it was near/already in your mouth? So I admit it, I bit down a little, mostly out of reflex. The kid wasn’t even crying, but then he got a bit disgusted at the elbow deep slobber he was currently experiencing (not my fault, it was hot out) and his owners assumed the worst.

The next few months are honestly something of a blur. All I remember is Todd Olson screaming “BAD DOG!” at me over and over. I feel that these accusations are unjustified, as I have been a very good dog. I let students pet me, took my walks, and even practiced eating the evil orange box.  But next thing I know my owner is telling me he’ll miss me and that I should be happy where I’m going. When did that happen? I was really looking forward to licking the new freshmen, and now I’m leaving? Did I graduate? I’ve only been here a year; I don’t have enough credits!

All that said, if I have to go then I want to say good-bye to all of the nice students. Through all of the scary meetings with Dr. Olson, none of you ever called me a bad dog. For that matter, I don’t recall any students ever being in on those meetings that apparently decided my fate. Weird, you’d figure they’d consult students before taking their mascot away.

Anyhow, I’m sad to be parting on such a quick good-bye, but I’ve got a busy day of chasing squirrels and rolling in my own poop ahead of me. Woof-woof!

Slobberingly,
JJ