McGruff The Crime Dog Pens Letter From Prison
I took a bit more than a bite out of crime. I took a plea deal for voluntary manslaughter. Anyone reading this that has any amount of power, please learn from my mistakes — don’t get carried away with excessive force, such as biting and barking.
I’m now inmate #22560, but some might remember me as McGruff the Crime Dog. I once was the spokesdog for the Ad Council and the National Crime Prevention Council. I educated citizens to always lock their doors and expressed the need for every home in America to have a porch light on at all hours of the night, in attempts to reduce crime. I also spoke out against bullying, drugs, guns not being locked up correctly, and — not so famously known — elder crime and soggy dog food.
Everything looked hip and fresh in those ads from the glory days, but I’ll be the first to tell you that not everyone is as they seem on television. You see, in my quest to stamp out crime in my beloved city, Chicago, I became the criminal as I began hounding perpetrators so intensely that I lost control of my animal instincts. Before I knew it, I was biting criminals left and right, which tragically took a turn for the worst when I ended up taking the life of another.
The power of being a big shot took its toll on me, and without realizing it, I was taking it out on others. In the heat of the moment, I snapped and went for a trespasser's throat with my canine mind and teeth. Before I knew it, I had just killed a human being and was urinating on a fire hydrant immediately afterward. I’ve never been so ashamed.
My good friend Smokey the Bear, who still visits me to this day, had warned me that I was getting out of line with my behavior. He’d always say that the only stirring I should be doing was a soaked campfire and not the anger in my heart. If only I would have listened to Smokey back then like I do now, I wouldn’t have ended up here in the Metropolitan Correctional Center in Chicago. I’ve traded my trench coat for an orange jumpsuit, and I’ve traded my life of being a powerful pooch for that of a bad boy sleeping on newspapers.
I’m hopeful that someday citizens across America will remember me as a good boy and scratch behind my ears — metaphorically speaking, of course. Luckily, my nephew, Scruff, has shown interest in carrying on the responsibility and is making his Bloodhound family very proud. I’m confident that the future will be bright, thanks to the new generation that will no longer be ignorant like us old dogs from days gone by. Puppy dog eyes will no longer be enough for one to get away with bad behavior. Believe me, I know. My bite turned out to be much worse than my bark.
You can still write to me at:
McGruff The Locked Up Dog
Chicago, Illinois 60652
Now sing it with me:
McGruff The Locked Up Dog
Chicago, Illinois 6 oh 652
Together, let’s take a bite out of bad penmanship as we become pen pals.
