Another Birthday, Another Christmas - Yes, It's All About Me

A big howl-out to everyone. It’s been a while since my last entry, but I’m back. Truth be told, I haven’t had much to say. My humans don’t take me out much as I don’t much fancy sharing space with the other man’s best friend wannabes in the neighborhood. People I like. They pet me and feed me and stuff. Other dogs just want to take my food. That’s how I roll (over, that is – a little dog humor there).

In the months since I last appeared on these pages (or whatever you call them since no paper is involved – what’s up with that?), things have been a bit quiet. Except for howling at the neighborhood dogs and the occasional passer-by, of course. There’s been the occasional trip out of town with my humans, but those were a little less frequent this past year. Something to do with what they call “work,” whatever that is. I have a hard enough time fitting in my naps with my eating and patrolling the yard as it is without adding something else to the mix.

Still, the year had a few good moments. In September, I turned nine, which some human said was like being 63 in people years. But, like they say, age is just a number, and I don’t understand numbers anyway. I’m a dog for Spot’s sake. I notice I have to stretch a bit more than I used to when I get up out of my bed. Otherwise, I feel pretty good, and I still like to mix it up with my humans once in a while, playing keep-away (they still call it fetch, humans are so cute that way) and doing a little roughhousing.

Christmas (I think that’s Latin or something for Canine’s Day) brought a couple of nice treats: a little bag of biscuits from one of my human’s friends (But what’s up with only giving me four? That’s barely enough for a taste.) and a Nylabone. I really love those, especially since they have saved me from an extra visit to the vet each year so they can play with my teeth. (They want to play with my teeth that badly, I’ll give them some teeth – right in the fleshy part where the sun don’t shine. If you catch my drift.)

I don’t much care for vets. They poke and prod and snip and trim. When was the last time a vet ever gave a dog anything back? Then they expect that a couple of measly treats will make up for all of that abuse. Not hardly. Plus, they really expect me to stand still through all of that when there are other dogs to check out and other things to smell? I don’t think so.

Well, I’ve gone on long enough. Besides, my other Christmas gift is calling me. It’s my new bed, and it gives me three beds throughout the house. (My humans just think it’s their house.) Typing this takes a lot out of me (I’m all paws), and I’m getting tired. Enjoy the new year. I hope it’s a good one for you. Get out and howl at the moon – or at the mailman, it’s all the same to me. Take a bite out of life (or a passing stranger), and get out and smell the roses, the grass, the trees, the bushes, visitors to the house. You know what I mean.

Later. Bark, bark, howl.

Why Does He Keep Smiling at Me?

Sometimes, my human can be most annoying. I'll give him an obvious look to let him know I desire something so that he can proceed to minister to my needs. And he'll just sit there and smile at me. It's so infuriating. Does he not understand dog?

What do I have to do to get him to respond in the way he should? And why should I have to do anything? Sometimes, it's enough to make a dog want to pick up his bone (or his ball) and go home. Except that I am home.

If it weren't for the fact that he feeds me, lets me outside, and lets me play keep-away with him, I'd consider trading in my human for someone else. After all, there has to be someone out there with an IQ higher than a can of Alpo who understands me.

Then again, seeing the problems humans have understanding each other, maybe I'm asking too much. They always seem to misinterpret, misunderstand, and misquote each other. No wonder they call dogs "man's best friend." They can't seem to communicate with one another well enough to get along.

Bark. Bark. Howl.