Saturday Talking Dog Blogging (IX)

This week, we’ll give you that adorable “family values” setting Augie Doggie and Doggy Daddy (a/k/a Dear Old Dad). Unlike some of our entries where the subject’s being, you know, a talking dog, is actually a fascinating metaphor (like Mr. Peabody, for example), these two could have been any animal, or even people… I understand that in the usual Hanna Barbera recycling process, they were derived from some talking mice (no not these…)
While superficially, I am reminded of perhaps myself and the Loquacious Pup, there are a number of immediate striking differences. First, like many patriarchal 1950’s era fantasies (“My Three Sons” being the classic, which persisted through at least the ’70’s on t.v.), Doggy Daddy is a single dad; men of that era seemed unable to maneuver the tasks of child-rearing if some woman were around (other than a paid woman, to raise them, or for comic relief, of course.) Second, although Doggy Daddy has a distinct New York accent (as its intended to be Durante, I’ll say “Bronx”), the two apparently live in the suburbs. Third, Doggy Daddy is kind of an idiot, and is really in way, way over his head… Augie Doggie frequently extricates the pair from nasty pickles that they got into because of Doggy Daddy’s incompetence.
Come to think of it, an incompetent Daddy Party seems to be dominating our political discourse these days, does it not? A constituency clinging to it out of irrational sentiment, rather than because it does any kind of actual good job… even at providing the most basic of security. And putting on a regional accent to do it, no less…
Ladies and gentlemen, we give you “family values” of the talking dog genre: every bit as effective as “family values” of any other genre.