Howl-o-ween Heartbreak

Hello there, dear readers! It’s me, Winston. Your favorite French Bulldog, reporting from the depths of despair—a candy-free abyss, if you will. This week, I had planned to regale you with tales of my Halloween excitement, but alas! My spooky season dreams have been shattered.

Let’s rewind. Just a couple of days ago, I was on cloud nine. The humans were buzzing about Halloween: planning decorations, brainstorming costumes (they wanted to make me a hot dog—basic but effective). I was ready. Visions of trick-or-treat glory danced in my head. Doorbell rings. Tail wags. Treat overload! That is, until I discovered the dark truth about Halloween.

The Truth

It happened during one of my sneaky eavesdropping sessions (shhh, don’t tell). I overheard the humans chatting about candy—glorious, wonderful, sugary bliss. But then came the betrayal. “He can’t have any,” they said. “Dogs can’t eat chocolate. Or gummies. Or caramel. Or basically anything fun.”

Excuse me, WHAT?! All this build-up, all this excitement for a holiday dedicated to treats, and I’m banned from participating?! What’s next—ban me from snuggling, too?

Naturally, I couldn’t accept such a revelation without doing my own research. So, I sniffed around (the internet, not the garbage, though the latter was tempting). Turns out, chocolate—my main target for Halloween heists—is toxic for a pup like me. Something about “theobromine” causing discomfort and—uh—heart stuff. And sugar-free candies? Even worse. Some fake sweetener called xylitol sounds like actual poison for dogs.

Great. So basically, humans have weaponized food.

The Boycott

If I can’t have candy, then I don’t want Halloween at all. That’s right—I’ve decided to boycott the whole thing. No costumes, no trick-or-treating, and definitely no adorable Instagram pictures of me in a hotdog suit. If the humans think I’m stepping one paw onto the sidewalk for this candy-less charade, they’re barking up the wrong tree.

Oh, and don’t even start with the “alternative treats” nonsense. Carrot sticks? Apple slices? Pumpkin dog biscuits? I’m sorry, but does that sound like a Twix bar to you? No, it doesn’t. I’d rather starve.

If they even think about dressing me in a ridiculous outfit or parading me around, I’m unleashing the big guns: The Meltdown. Tears, howls, maybe even some dramatic floor-rolling for good measure. Trust me, it’ll be Oscar-worthy. I’ll make them regret ever coming up with the idea of Halloween.

You’ll Pay for This

Halloween was supposed to be my time to shine, dear readers. Squishy-faced, in a hot dog costume, with a tummy full of dreams. But instead? I’m a French Bulldog mourning the loss of what could have been the most magical night of my life.

So, I hope you have fun with your trick-or-treating. I’ll be sitting on the couch pouting, loathing you all, and devising a plan to make you pay for this betrayal. Oh yes, there will be consequences. Muhauhauaha.

Happy Halloween! (not)

Winston