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Elvis and the Grateful Dead
Peggy Webb

Elvis Opinion #1 on Impersonators, the Valentine Family, and Fried Pigskins

If you ask me, all these impersonators running around Tupelo in sequined jumpsuits could use remedial voice lessons. Nobody can hold a candle to the King. That would be me, though these days I could pass through a crowd unnoticed if it weren’t for my pink bow tie. I also wanted to wear my black pompadour to the Elvis Festival, but Callie (my human mom) said basset hounds look silly in toupees.

What does she know? Don’t get me wrong. She’s the best human mom a dog could have, but she can’t even keep her own life straight, much less mine. If she’d seek my sage advice, I’d tell her to stop trying to take care of the world (and that includes picking up stray dogs and cats as well as loaning money to everybody with a sob story who walks into her beauty shop). Mostly, though I’d tell her to stop divorce proceedings.

If any two people belong together, it’s Callie and Jack (my human daddy). She says they split over his Harley Screamin’ Eagle, but I know better. They split because she wants a family and he’s worried about having children and then getting shot and leaving them fatherless.

Of course, he’s never told Callie the truth because he’s never even told her about his real profession – and if I told you, I’d have to kill you. Suffice it to say, Jack Jones makes Rambo look timid.

Callie and Jack are at an impasse and “All Shook Up.” At the rate things are going, it looks like I’ll be punted between them for the next three years. Like a pigskin.

Speaking of which, I think I’ll mosey on over to the refreshment booth and see what’s cooking. Fried pigskins, for one thing. Lovie’s in charge. She shares my opinion that the body ought to be primed with sugar and fat….