Local Dog Not Taking New Addition Well: “They Brought Home a Puppy. I Brought the Chaos.”

By Hugo V., Editor-in-Chimp

SEDONA, AZ — In a quiet desert home tucked between red rocks and spiritual vorteces, one dog is silently waging war.

Eight-year-old lab mix Murphy was living a comfortable, if emotionally complex, existence as the only canine in the Thompson household—until last Thursday, when his humans committed the ultimate betrayal: bringing home a golden retriever puppy named Scout.

“I thought we were happy,” said Murphy, sprawled on a sun-bleached patch of rug he’s claimed as his emotional support zone. “I didn’t bark excessively. I learned how to shake. I even let them dress me as a taco for Halloween. And this is the thanks I get? A tiny, slobbering mop with feet?”

Sources say Murphy has since begun a slow, calculated descent into petty retaliation. The most notable tactic: discreet, emotionally charged urination.

“It’s not even about marking,” Murphy explained, staring into the distance. “It’s about sending a message. On the bathmat. On the guest pillow. On Todd’s Birkenstocks.”

Murphy has also taken on the role of misleading mentor, frequently luring Scout into “accidental” misbehavior.

“Hey Scout, you know what’s fun? Chewing Dad’s AirPods,” Murphy was reportedly overheard whispering. “Oh, and if you’re really brave, I can show you where Todd keeps the loaded Nerf guns. Maybe one day they won’t be Nerf.”

Additional “mentoring” has included:

• “The mail is full of enemy intel. Shred it. Especially anything labeled ‘Important’ or ‘Mortgage.’”
  (Scout ripped up three bills and a jury summons. Hero.)
• “You see those wires beside the couch? They’re spaghetti. Forbidden spaghetti. The best kind.”
  (Scout chewed through a phone charger and briefly lost the ability to blink symmetrically.)
• “The cat isn’t hissing. She’s just doing jazz vocals. Go closer.”
• “Those aren’t houseplants. That’s an indoor salad bar. Eat the one with the sharp leaves for maximum flavor.”
  (Scout licked a cactus and cried for 15 minutes.)

Despite Murphy’s clearly deteriorating mental state, the Thompsons remain largely unaware of the psychological warfare unfolding on their adobe floors.

“Murphy’s been… moodier,” said owner Todd Thompson, adjusting the baby gate now wedged permanently into the hallway. “But I think he’s just adjusting. It’s sweet, actually. Sometimes he even shares his toys. Or like, shows Scout where the trash is.”

Murphy, however, sees it differently.

“Oh, I share, alright,” said Murphy. “Yesterday I shared the secret spot behind the toilet where Scout can eat hair. I’m practically a life coach.”

Experts warn that pet jealousy is a real issue and recommend structured bonding activities, extra attention, and positive reinforcement. Murphy has his own plan.

“I’ve been good for eight years. I deserve to be the golden boy. Not that golden boy,” he muttered while dramatically sighing into his food bowl. “If they want Scout so bad, let him wear the antlers at Christmas. See how he likes humiliation.”

As of press time, Scout was gnawing happily on a TV remote while Murphy watched in grim silence, calculating the next “accidental” incident.

“I haven’t even started phase two yet.”