How Shakespeare Saved the Earth

I am a female Norwegian elkhound named Shakespeare. On March 19, 2014, I saved Earth from invasion by the planet Xgorpia. A housewife, a boy, and a garage door opener helped.

It was a normal morning. My humans had locked me in the garage to protect me from Animal Control. Their concern was nice, but my ancestors nipped at the heels of charging elks. Evading dog catchers isn’t a challenge.

My garage door opened. I saw six tall men in matching outfits at my neighbors’ open door. Jimmy, my friend, stood on the porch.

“Jimmy,” I barked cheerfully. “What’s going on?” All humans hear is “Bark, bark, bark.” I liked Jimmy.

One man swung around, drawing a squirtgun. “What did you say?”

“I was asking Jimmy,” I began... “Wait a minute. You understood me?”

“Yes. Our translation software doesn’t seem to work on humans.”

I trotted closer. Something was off. Each man looked identical and had pointed ears. Something familiar…

“Why do you all look like Leonard Nimoy?” I asked.

“Hi, Shakespeare,” said Billy. “These men knocked but I can’t understand….”

“Who’s Leonard Nimoy?” asked the closest Nimoy.

“An actor on a Sixties TV show my human watches.”

“All humans look alike to us. We wanted to blend in, so we reviewed communications from your military organization Desilu Studios and chose a typical human appearance.”

“Desilu Studios? A military organization? Leonard Nimoy? A typical human!” I laughed.

“Why is Shakespeare barking now?” Linda, Jimmy’s mom, appeared at the door.

“You’re revealing operational secrets,” hissed another Nimoy.

“This species forces humans to talk, Leader. I apologize.”

Leader Nimoy said, “Our scouting reports didn’t fully assess the threat. Neutralize it.”

“Threat?” I asked.

Nimoy raised his squirtgun and fired.

Garage doors all over the neighborhood closed.

“What was that?” I asked.

Both Nimoys looked terrified. “It’s immune to advanced weaponry!”

“Jimmy,” said Linda. “Take Shakespeare home. Gentlemen, come inside.” Linda’s gracious. She calls me “dog” and pretends she doesn’t like me, but she sneaks me treats. Classy lady.

He grabbed my collar and put me in my yard.

“Sorry, girl. Gotta follow the Law of Mom.” He petted me. “I’ll come back after these weirdos leave. We’ll play.”

“Okay,” I said. He heard “Bark.”

I waited, ran, and leapt over the gate.

The neighbors’ front window was open. Linda served each Nimoy lemonade. All six held glasses, none drank. What do they think? She’s going to poison them? Jimmy took a big gulp of lemonade.

Then the other Nimoys felt safe. Most took a slug, looked at each other, surprised, then chugged, emptying their glasses. One sipped and put the glass down. The other five gestured for more.

“Well,” said Linda, “I can’t understand a word y’all say, but you sure like lemonade.”

Something’s off. One Nimoy slipped off his chair. Another stared at his hand. Another turned to the Nimoy next to him and said, “I know this is bad timing, but I have feelings for you.”

“Mom,” said Jimmy. “They’re acting drunk.”

“Is the lemonade too tart?” she asked the nearest Nimoy.

That Nimoy stared longingly, saying, “You have the most beautiful knuckles I have ever seen.”

“Thanks?” Linda said.

I’d had enough. I scrambled through the open window and barked, “You leave her alone. She’s Jimmy’s mom.”

The Nimoy who had only one lemonade sip produced his squirtgun and fired.

Every radio in the house started playing “Tequila.” (Yes, I know my Fifties music. Blame my human.)

Amorous Nimoy grabbed Linda’s hand and blew lustily on her knuckles. Linda jerked away.

“You B movie wannabees better leave now,” I barked.

“But we must contact humans,” said Sober Nimoy, “And blend into their society.”

I growled.

Amorous Nimoy grabbed Linda’s hand again and tried to lick her knuckles. I nipped his heels like he was an elk in Norway.

He yipped and backed away, terrified. I lunged at another Nimoy, snapping my teeth. I wasn’t gonna bite, but they didn’t know that. I lunged and spouted old movie lines like “Do you feel lucky?” and “If I want your opinion, I’ll beat it out of you.”

I backed them to the door Jimmy had opened. Once the Nimoys were outside, Jimmy slammed the door.

Out on the front lawn, I charged at Sober Nimoy and barked, “Tell me what’s going on right now.” I also needed them out of sight. The garage. I thought. “Shoot me again,” I told Sober Nimoy.

Terrified, he raised the squirtgun at me and fired.

The neighborhood garage doors opened.

“In here.” I herded them into the garage—being a herding dog comes in handy when corralling six Leonard Nimoys.

Once inside, I told Sober Nimoy, “Shoot again.” The garage door closed.

Trying to growl menacingly, I questioned Sober Nimoy. “Who are you? Why are you here?”

“We are from Xgorpia. We are a peaceful people, but your military agency called Desilu Studios began transmitting messages about coded operations in which your ships travelled the galaxy forcing planets to join something called the “United Fred-rated of Something.”

“That doesn’t make sense,” I said.

“Yes, I now realize Desilu Studios was a ruse concealing the fact that you are this planet’s dominant species.” He looked worried.

Me? Dominant? I realized he meant dogs. “Uh, yes. We are in charge. And clever. And very angry about being invaded.”

Nimoy said, “It was a terrible mistake. Release us, and Xgorpia will never bother Earth again.”

I growled and negotiated more to make sure they were good and terrified. Eventually I let them go. Sober Nimoy called his starship for a rescue. A UPS truck appeared on the driveway and honked. The driver looked like Leonard Nimoy.

Later, I was making my rounds--remember, no fence can hold a Norwegian elkhound. Linda and Joe called me over. Joey fed me a Milk Bone and Linda scratched me behind the ears, cooing, “Who’s a good girl?”

And that’s how I, Shakespeare, saved the earth.