I'm working on getting rid of my redundant redundancies

I
 love my editor. I spend a year and a half writing a masterpiece of literature for you to enjoy. It fills approximately 100,000 pages of the most fantastic prose ever imagined in the human mind. Then she can cut it down so that it will fit on the average postage stamp. Not only that. You know all that emotional quality, all that intense plot development, all that amazing character development I can put into a story? She can strip all substance from my pieces so that the only thing you have to struggle with is “See Spot run.” It is a fantastic thing to see. 
And quite educational too. When I first started writing for the News Letter Journal, I had no training at all. I took English in college, but that was way back in the day before English was an official language. Now with the inclusion of three-letter acronyms, like LOL and OMG, our language is
complete, FYI. 
But I’ve never taken creative writing or journalism classes. And I think it’s for the best if you ask me. There I would probably have to learn how to construct a sentence, how to break it apart into subject and predicate again. All that is predicated on my knowing what a predicate actually is. This goes against my instincts because that would require me to think. You don’t want me to think. At least that’s what
I think.
But Penny has cut through all of that for me and broken it down into a straightforward rule. “See Spot run.” It couldn’t be easier. Please don’t get the idea that she wants me to only write about a dog named Spot. That is far from the truth. She is much more sophisticated than that and realized that I have some creative output that is needed to express the complicated mess that is my imagination. She will also let me write about a dog named Rover. But “See Rover run” uses one more letter than “See Spot run,” and we have only so much space per issue. So the upshot is that the size of my stories matter.
I tried to cheat a bit at first. In the beginning I used font size 0.00001. But nobody at the News Letter was fooled by the attempt to circumvent editing, and there was a great deal of insistence that I learn to write shorter articles and columns. So then I widened my column width, hoping to squeeze my writing into fewer lines. But that’s not the definition of “shorter” that they meant. They actually mean fewer words. And they also want me to stop using big words when diminutive words will suffice.
What they have to fight with is my training, and that’s a hard thing to overcome. You see, I went to college at The School of Redundancy School, where I double-majored in music performance and the performance of music. When that becomes part of your thinking pattern, you have a tendency to repeat yourself yourself yourself. And this leads to lengthy stories.
Except for this time. You see, I’ve said all I have to. Besides, there’s a Dalmatian across the street that is running.
“Hey, Connie! See Spot run!”