My Point...And I Do Have One by Ellen Degeneres Read Free Book Online

look at my dogs a lot—probably very curious about the breed. It’s hard to tell what they are with their little sweaters on,
    Uh-oh, I hear a ruckus outside. Sounds like Bootsie is into some trouble with other dogs. I’ll sign off for now. The big day is soon upon us.

J OURNAL E NTRY
    Anchorage, Alaska. Five A.M .
    I haven’t been sleeping well. I’m very worried about the race. It starts tomorrow, and since arriving here I’ve learned a lot more about this event. For instance, you’re supposed to have somewhere between fourteen and twenty dogs per sled. Wow! That’s crazy. I mean—where do all of these people live that they’re allowed to own that many dogs? I know for my own neighborhood there is a zoning law that prohibits a person from having any more than three dogs. Nevertheless, I must adapt to the circumstances and move forward. I will go to the local animal shelter today and get more dogs. Since Bootsie and Muffin are somewhat familiar with the routine, I won’t need the full twenty dogs. I’ll just get fifteen. A nice seventeen will do just fine. I figure these dogs will be so grateful to be adopted they’ll do anything I ask of them. After the race I’ll simply find good, loving homes for them.

J OURNAL E NTRY
    Uh-oh. I think I’m in trouble. For some reason the shelter didn’t have that many dogs. I got seven—that’s all they had—and eight cats (I was desperate). I see no reason why I can’t train the cats to pull. I’ve seen movies and TV shows where they use cats (for what exactly I don’t remember). Besides, with the nine dogs total, they should be able to get it going, and once we have momentum it should be easy pulling for the cats (well, kittens—they’reten weeks old). Maybe I’ll just keep the kittens in the sled with me. They can’t add any weight. I wonder if I can push the sled in addition to the dogs pulling or at least just run alongside. I’ve picked up a pamphlet on the race—hopefully I will get a little more insight on this Iditarod
    Bye for now.

J OURNAL E NTRY
    Oh my—Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. I’m afraid I’m not as prepared as I would like to be. My intentions were good, but Bootsie is having a problem with the kitties. I’ve tried to introduce them slowly so as to avoid the problem we had the first day. I’ve never seen Bootsie so aggressive. Luckily, I got there in time to stop her violent charges at the poor kitties. I can’t imagine why she hates them so!
    The race started yesterday. I hope I can catch up. It shouldn’t be that hard. I’ve attached a small motor to my sled, which should help matters somewhat. I plan on leaving tonight.
    Over and out.

J OURNAL E NTRY
    Things have gotten worse and worse. All the other racers are two days ahead of me. I hate them. They are a distasteful group whose juvenile jeering made me yearn for the taunts of my neighborhood children. I dream of wiping the smiles off their smug, pudgy faces. How dare they call me a Sheila Disco Musher?
    But I fear that my dreams of revenge will just be dreams. The motor on my sled didn’t work, probablybecause it wasn’t attached to anything. AH it did was make a lot of noise, weigh down the sled, and scare the cats.
    I must keep my spirits up. Not so much for myself as for my team. I must not give up hope. If we do not feel like winners, we cannot win. To that end I will head to downtown Anchorage today to get the three poodles on my team pedicures.
    Whenever I ask myself, “Why go on?” I must answer, “Why not.” Miracles do happen.
    Icanarod, Iwillarod, Iwinarod, Iditarod.

J OURNAL E NTRY
    I won! I won! They say I didn’t. They say I cheated. They say I’ve been disqualified. All I know is I finished first. My team and I were the first ones to get from Anchorage to Nome.
    They can bitch and moan as much as they please. Nowhere in the rules does it say you can’t use a Winnebago. It was a stroke of genius and a bit of luck. Who would have guessed that