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CIVIL WAR WEEK! The Civil War: A Canine Timeline

July 29, 2011

December 20, 1860: South Carolina becomes the first state to secede from the Union over the divisive question that has loomed over the nation for decades: dry vs. canned food.

April 12, 1861: Hostilities commence when a regiment of terriers led by General P. G. T. Beauregard, a bloodhound, shits en masse on the front lawn of Fort Sumter. Union forces surrender with incessant whines indicating that they want to be let out of the fort, yet perk up instantly at the prospect of a wagon ride to a Confederate prison. The nation is at war.

July 21, 1861: Helping to forge his reputation as one of the most acute tacticians of the Civil War, Confederate Dalmatian Thomas J. Jackson (aka “Stoney”) masterminds a brilliant victory at Manassas. Among the diversionary tactics he employs is the fake-throwing of sticks, which sends unsuspecting Union soldiers bounding toward poorly protected flanks, as well as balancing treats on the noses of enemy troops while never giving them the go-ahead to catch them in mid-air.

November 5, 1862: Fed up with the increasing incompetence of General McClellan, a Weimaraner who heads the Army of the Potomac, President Lincoln, a greyhound, relieves him of his command. Upon hearing the news, McClellan quizzically cocks his head to one side.

December 1862: In an historic step toward the integration of American armed forces, Colonel Robert Gould Shaw agrees to lead the 54th Massachusetts Volunteer Infantry, the first American military unit comprised entirely of black Labrador retrievers. Following his death at the Second Battle of Fort Wagner in July of the following year, Shaw’s surviving troops pay tribute to their fallen master by repeatedly dropping a tennis ball at the foot of his grave.

April 1, 1863: Reflecting his last-place standing in his West Point class and presaging his stunning ineffectiveness at Little Big Horn a decade and a half later, then-First Lieutenant George Armstrong Custer (“Georgie”) demonstrates just how easily distracted he is when a Confederate spy rubs a certain spot on his side, setting his left rear leg thumping rhythmically.

July 1316, 1863: Violent draft riots throw New York City into chaos. Hordes of poor immigrants, led by thuggish yet silky-coated gangs of Irish setters, march from the notorious Five Points to the lavish mansions of Fifth Avenue. There they decisively express their displeasure over the brutal injustice of class inequality by dragging their butts all over the carpets.

December 1863: Harsh, bitter winter conditions take their toll on Confederate troops used to warmer climes. Morale drops even further when each officer under the command of General Samuel Gibbs French, a miniature poodle, is forced to wear a gaily colored, hand-knit Christmas sweater with tiny pompoms that tie at the neck.

August 1864: The Union’s decisive juggernaut through Georgia gets underway. A bold Confederate plan to lead Sherman’s troops into an ambush outside Atlanta falls apart after Rebel forces give away their own positions by involuntarily howling when a fire truck passes nearby.

April 9, 1865: The terms of Lee’s surrender at Appomattox Court House are sealed with the reciprocal sniffing of butts. Late that night, Lincoln, elated, exhausted, and pensive at the prospect of years of healing that lie ahead, retires to his quarters, turns around three times, and goes to sleep at the foot of the bed.

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17 Comments leave one →
  1. July 29, 2011 5:31 am

    Until now I never noticed the dog in the picture above. Always found it interesting that war starts April 12 , Lee surrenders April 9 and Lincoln dies April 14. President Franklin Roosevelt died April 12. My blog 1 year old April 31. April is a very historic month.

  2. July 29, 2011 9:41 am

    Your brain is weird. I like it.

  3. July 29, 2011 10:40 am

    Absolutely brilliantly funny!

    • July 29, 2011 5:43 pm

      Thank you. [Anxiously waits for a Snausage]

      • July 29, 2011 10:43 pm

        **Furiously scratching behind JAPECAKE’S ear**

        “WHOSE Ah Good Boy- WHOSE Ah Good Boy?!”

      • July 29, 2011 11:07 pm

        You’ll want to wash your hands, since I rolled around in my own crap this afternoon. Habit.

  4. July 29, 2011 12:57 pm

    Oh, festive, doggie christmas sweaters… how much damage have you done over the centuries?

    • July 29, 2011 5:50 pm

      So true. And the Nazis were worst of all; their dogs were also forced to wear tiny Alpine hats and lederhosen.

  5. July 29, 2011 1:25 pm

    This was weird and amazing.

    • July 29, 2011 5:53 pm

      Thank you. “Who’s a good boy?” would also have been acceptable.

      • July 29, 2011 10:46 pm

        (dammit- I didn’t read the rest of the comments- You beat me to it Japecake)

        **Tuggs tail between legs**

      • July 29, 2011 11:04 pm

        Buck up. You don’t want to let the cat see you like this.

  6. July 29, 2011 10:54 pm

    Great post, as usual! You deserve a good leg-humping for this one.

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