Strikes Make Puppies Sad

So my dog cocked her head and flopped her ears and looked at me quizzically. And the conversation went something like this...

My Dog: So, Dave, that blood trickling down the back of your thigh, is that a result of the anal buggering you're taking due to the writers' guild strike?

Me: Why, yes, puppy, it is.

My Dog: Is that because you had a couple projects with big time producers and big time talent attached that you thought were just about to get set up before the strike went from Summer of 2008 to right effing now?

Me: Why, yes, puppy, it is.

My Dog: Does that make you want to quit the strike?

Me: Not until we get a decent deal for internet redistribution of our authored work.

My Dog: Good boy.