At Sag Harbor on Long Bech, Sasha and I found this lovely husky puppy,called Rocky.

I showed him Carmel's picture and asked Rocky, "Please can you help us rescue him from being an east village hot dog rooftop decoration. We are gathering a doggie army.Are you in? "

"Carmel", I whispered up to his doogy ears, "do not worry. The SP will gather some other fierce dogs and we will rescue you, we will unleash you and free you, and save you from this most humiliating captivity. I am on top of it. I promise not to go to one more party till you are free. Trust me."

Carmel looked down at me with those big brown soulful eyes.

" SP, my neck hurts, I am stiff, I want to play with my friends and sniff other dogs like I used to when I was small, cute, free and happy. YOU got me into this mess. Those Pigs and their henchmen opened this hot dog restaurant which they called Good Dog as some kind of a sick joke and warning to my fellow canine friends.

I have had nothing but hot dogs to eat for a month, in the beginning it was not so bad as I used to love hot dogs but now I spit them out over the bratty east village customers heads if I can aim correctly, it is my only fun these days.

You wouldn't happen to have one of those organic raw veggie chews on you, I am so starving I would even consider eating them.

GET ME OUT OF HERE NOW. The Sad Angel is most displeased, most displeased indeed."

"Gulp, she has been by and saw you, oh dear." I said, this is bad.

SP to the Rescue. I do love a rescue mission myself, gives you a noble reason to get up in the morning other than my normal reason - self amusement. I heard the Hamptons has some very fierce dogs I think I will see what I can do out there. Also I heard they have rich handsome single men with McMansions who may want to help me on my mission. I had better get packing my best designer togs.

Look what happened to poor Carmel the messenger dog. A ROOFTOP DECORATION!

It is beyond awful.

They chained him up and made a sick memorial for him, turned him into part of the rooftop awning decoration of an east village hot dog restaurant , shameful. It's not even kosher. It may look like he is happy and smiling to you butI assure you he is there under duress.

We know that Percy the Pig has sent a message to all dogs out there in New Yawk City, do not meddle in my affairs or you will end up as a non kosher hot dog restaurant rooftop decoration. Many centuries ago poor Jesus was crucified when he was totally innocent and all he did was perform a few charitable miracles and now in our own times, we have the same dastardly deed with poor Carmel' suffering put on show for all to see. It is a wonder those restaurant patrons do not have a heart and can sit there nonchalantly waiting on their dogs without a thought for poor Carmel suspended forever on the roof. I guess that is why they had to chainCarmel up or he would probably pounce on those two twits he is so rightfully mad.

On the way back to the shuttle bus , a lovely lady called Georgia, like my sister, from Lehman, insisted on doing a deal with me so she could go and relax by her pool with a clear conscience like me. At least I did not ask her hundreds of daft questions, she got off lightly if you ask me.

I found a prospect, clever me and he is healthy and drinks lots of water like me.

"Excuse me, sweet, hydrated Wolfie Chops. Here is my business card, let's do some deals together. Everyone else is wheeling and dealing here like mad, why should we be left out?

Lunch, you want to do lunch, you love power lunches. Funny, me too. Ok it's a deal. Do you like Grammercy Tavern, Union Square Cafe, Zen Palette?

They all sound good, do they serve plastic wolves?

Sure, No problem, in NewYork, all are welcome. Just don't bring your water bottle as these are all snooty places and they get funny about that type of thing. you have to drink their water. Don't worry I will explain it all.

No, you don't need a jacket unless you want to go to Picholine for the cheese platter.

Phew, what a lot of questions to ask, MrWolfie Chops, ah, these country yokels need a lot of hand holding.

Now that all my hard work's over for the day and I arranged an important lunch back in NY, I can go and relax by the luxury giganticus Roman pool at Caeasar's Palace. It sure is hard work being be me. Well earned Pina Colada by the pool is in order now. Where do you get the shuttle bus away from this concrete Central Hall?

Actually to tell you the truth I had to go to Vegas as the powers that be from the office told me that the big retail conference ICSC is a great place to pick up new propects who may be interested in real estate research.

Look at the lovely prospect I found right enough. Borris the Cuddly Plastic Bear promised me,"I can be very fierce when I feels like it, you just go off and enjoy yourself in Vegas and remember what happens in Vegas, didn't happen."

Ahh, Boris, what sound advice. A long overdue romantic adventure may be calling me. I wonder if there are any hotties at this stuffy old real estate convention. Darn, I am supposed to be looking for prospects. Focus,SP. Focus, no distractions for you.

They were all too busy focusing on something else.

I love Vegas, everything is larger than life and I did not see a single dog or pig the whole time I was there. I tell you it looks just like that great HBO series Rome , where everybody had lots of sex and then got killed. Lucky not a soul recognized me.

Correct smartie pants, it is easy.

Caesar's Palace, Vegas!

There was so many princesses everywhere at the poolside, I just got lost in the crowd.

Phew, that Chinease Dragon Dog was a real smart one sending me here. Try finding me here, if you can.

Actually I quite like being in hiding.

Did you guess where I skeedaddled to yet?

"Why your Royal Miss Scottishness," the chap with the muscles and sheild replied, "How might we be of service to you? We can be your bodyguards but we travel in a pack of four, I am afraid."

"You guys look like the friendly idle sort who could do with a little job.

(Those of you who know me will know i love giving people little jobs to do in holy service of the SP)

Would you care to protect the SP against any wild four legged predators with paws or snouts who woof in the middle of the night?"

Clue Number 2.

Ok, where am I?

Clue Number 1.

Half way through the parade a Chinease Dragon dog came looking for me and warned me,

"SP, my dear one, you had best go back into hiding as every dog and pig in this little red apple of ours i on the warpath, for you. They are considering teaming up against you as an act of revenge. You had better sceedaddle m'lady. Take the next plane out of town or you may end up as mincemeat in a hamburger bun, what a waste of black sequins that would be."

How do you like that? I thought the hat and red sunglasses was working well as a disguise, obviously not.

"Help, Mr Dragon Bug Eyed Dog,where can I go, where no hot blooded four legged will be able to find me?"

"How about ..... s? ," he slobbered in my ear.

All that rain made me daydream about my dear old native land, Bonnie Scotland!

My poor felt Phillip Treacy hat will never be the same.

I found a magnificent White Caped Elvis who taught me how to get down and Boogie!

This Blue Winged Lady was surrounded by Paparazzi. We all want to copy her outfit for Burning Man.

Well you know what they say, the show must go on.

May 19th, even the Dogs and Pigs held a truce for the day.

New York City's first ever Dance Parade. So what if it rained, we all still had fun!

I ran home, sobbing with every step.

On the way home on Second Avenue and 7th Street, I saw one of Rufus' Kiss Buddy Cronies, cradling a toy baby, wearing a mask and a pink wig, some sort of odd disguise.

"Did you hear the terrible news," I cried, "this is all your fault, look at what happened to Carmel, because Rufus and you lot refused to back off and kept sharpening your knives and planning all sorts of pork recipies. Look what you have done. Carmel is gone for ever, stretched and bloated and stuffed like a sausage, one of yours, no less."

"My fault," he laughed, "it was you who started the whole thing off, not us. Now scram, you are blowing my cover. Be off with you, SP, trouble maker. Coochie Coo, Coochie Coo, babykins."

"What are you supposed to be with that daft disguise, I knew it was you, you horrid lout, from a mile off. "I shouted back at the Kiss Cronie.

"A nanny,'" he said. "Now scram or I will smack your bottie too."

I didn't need any more encouragement than that. So I scrammed.

But Carmel did not move, woof, nothing. He was frozen for ever in the St Mark's shop window. Someone who knew exactly what they were doing, that I would be walking home this route as I always do, had laid this evil trap for me.

Yes, some hideous, cruel, vile fiend had blown him up like a giant balloon dog ala Jeff Koons style, stuffed him like a moose and placed him on top of a hospital trolly with the torture tools underneath for all to see. There was a tear coming out of Carmel's left eye,which broke my heart.

"Carmel, please come back to life." I banged and banged on the store window. Nothing.

My only consolation was that I knew exactly who had done this terrible thing to an innocent messenger dog. Yes and I know you chaps out there know who it was too.

{Tell me , SP followers, why is it that the messenger always gets killed, even if he is only a wee dog. The exact same thing happened to Xerxes' messenger in 300. He was thrown down a terrifying bottomless pit which led to the bowels of hell for all I know, for simply doing his job, it is just not fair.}

Sure enough, in the corner of the shop window was a little business card w P in gold letters engraved on it.

It read : " SP, keep out of this. Let this be a warning to you, or you and your other four legged doggy pals will end up on a hospital trolly too. Window Shopping ain't what it used to be! Ha! Grunt, Grunt. P."

Blimy I thought, pure evil, Percy has totally lost it. Rufus, help! What to do ? the Sad Angel will totally flip. Poor Carmel, how can I ever forgive myself, I promised him he would be safe.

"NO, NO, NO, IT CAN NOT BE. " I gasped. "Not my new best favorite wee Doggy pal, Carmel. Surely not. He couldn't. Percy is a good kind of a Pig, he just wouldn't do this."

I started crying hysterically on the street. "Carmel, I cried to the store window, "It's me, your SP, talk to me. Woof to me. Look I have one of your beloved raw veggie doggy chews in my pocket, come and get it, please Carmel."

Just one hour later, walking home from a jolly delicious pasta lemon spaghetti special dinner a hideous sight stopped me in my tracks.

Wee Doggy Carmel caught my eye, slinking out the back door, where all the waiters were standing smoking and catching up on the day's news. I thought I heard the words dogs, pigs and viscous war from a large handsome beefy Italian , but I knew I was totally just being paranoid now.

"Carmel, my messenger doggie wee pal, come and get a yummy raw organic veggie chew from your SP, for being so brave to come and tell me this scary news. Don't worry you will be fine. You are totally safe with me, I will never let anything happen to you. Come and pose for my world famous comedy blog. Remember what happened to Rufus, he is a big movie star now."

So Carmel ate my chew, believe it or not, I guess he was totally starving as he had been in hiding for a month and even posed for a photo with me, in hope of starting off his own movie career. After all, I told him, you are way cuter than Rufus.

I then went to one of my favorite East Village hang outs,Franks, for dinner to reflect on the odd way life takes funny turns and now perhaps silly old Rufus the Firemutt is even more famous than me, with his own personal movie, and he was a total nobody before he met men and not one director has approached me yet to make MY SP movie, when I heard a muffled "Woof, Woof, Woof" coming from under a coat under one of the chairs.


"Miss SP, over here, under the green jacket, yes over here."

"Who me?", I asked the coat, not sure who else to address.

"How many other SP's are there in this town?" the doggy coat replied.

"True enough."

"I am Carmel, a toffee colored mongrel dog,living in midtown, and I come as a messenger from all the Mutts in this town. We have all had to go in hiding as the Pigs are after us and have been threatening to send us to China so we will be turned into some vile doggy stew. You must help us. Stop the War NOW."

"The Iraq war? Yes I am working on that one with my old pal and Oscar winner the Queen. Did you hear about our Royal Garden Party idea? Should sort it all out in a jiffy, once I get over there of course."

No, you dope,"Carmel growled back, "Our war. The Viscious Pig and Dog War in NYC. It is going to be a major blood bath."

"Oh, that War.Don't be silly Rufus is too famous now for that type of thing, he won't want to gert his paws dirty and jeopardize his movie carreer,I hear he is up for an Oscar, first ever dog oscar in fact. You can come out of hiding, silly mutt."

Carmel shook his little head and went back under the covers," Fool," I heard him woof to himself, "if only she knew."

Knew what, WHAT? Tell me, but when I looked under the coat Carmel had gone.

Well as some of you avid blog readers may have noticed, I have been keeping a very low profile this past month, since the Viscous War of the Dogs and the Pigs in New York City was announced. Rumours have been flying all over town, that I started this whole thing off.

For my own personal safety, I denied everything. "I think there may be another Princess at fault," I countered, "I heard there was an Irish Princess in town last month, causing all sorts of mayhem."

I am not sure anyone really believed me. Then I happened to be at the cinema in Union Square to see 300 , a terribly violent cartoon movie, perfect for boys age 15, about how brave the Spartans are and how much they love killing everyone in sight, when I saw this poster.

Jesus, I thought, thanks to my blog Rufus has become FAMOUS! He is now a movie star, probably has a chauffered limo and everything and loads of fans, humans, dogs, babies, firemen, chasing after him. ALL THANKS TO ME. You would think the least he could do is call off this silly war. He is probably too busy having his make up done in special doggy trailers for interviews on Larry King or Saturday Night Live to have the time to even think of chasing poor Percy and eating him up. Phew! I thought, thank goodness for that, life does take an unexpected turn when you least when you expect it.