For the third time since his owner, Frank Stevens, passed away, Houndson Doggington sat across the room from his therapist, Dogtor Biscuit. His condition has improved, but his new owner, Molly, has been posting pictures of him on FaceBook and other social medias. He feels violated, and has attempted to protest, but unfortunately, he’s an animal. He can’t talk. Disney was wrong.

So how are things going?

Dogtor, I feel worse. I haven’t eaten in days, and Molly has me in obedience classes for barking. I don’t think she understands that posting naked pictures of me online without my permission is a huge privacy breach. Well, mostly naked, sometimes she makes me wear a stupid hat or something.

How does it make you feel to have these pictures of you online?

Every time I hear Molly’s phone give off that little dingy sound, I know somebody else has seen my exposed body. Now, don’t get me wrong. I look hot as all hell. I’ve been hitting the park quite a lot lately, and I have a super steady diet of kibble. But it’s hard hearing those noises and knowing that my body isn’t really mine anymore. It’s up on the intro-met (or whatever it’s called) for everyone to see.

Well can you hire a lawyer or something?

Does it look like I have the money for a lawyer? I can barely afford to keep coming to you for advice. You know what? Therapy is a scam. You’re just here to take my money, you son of a biscuit. I’m done with your bullsh…

After about fifteen minutes of this, Doggington was subdued and arrested for attempted manslobber.

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