If she'd just freaking let me...

Sometimes we go to the tree place with Mom and the kids. There are so many trees and so much grass and so much stuff. I can smell it under the leaves. Under many of the leaves and under a lot of the bushes to. I want to go follow the smell--I know I'll find something good if she'd just let me freaking go get it!

I try I really do, I try to lead her in the direction of the interesting smell. Is it a bird? A squirrel, a mouse, something new? Yes it is. And I could show her. I assure her it would be interesting to her to. If she'd just let me freaking go get it and show her.

But she doesn't let me go far, I can walk ahead a little but that's it. Ahh, frustration. Don't they smell it? Don't they want to know what it is? I could show them. I would share. If she'd just freaking let me.

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Kisses Taste Good

Mom tastes like deli turkey slices. Mmmm. I wish she'd let me kiss her more. I love her and she's so nice. She always moves the yummy part of her face I like to kiss. Dad, he tastes like corned beef. He never lets me kiss him either. But sometimes, sometimes, I get them both! You know, so they know I love them.

The little boy tastes like sweet carrots. I like those for a snack. The little girl tastes like cookies. I know because I got one out of the garbage once, but Mom saw and was mad. They are so much easier to kiss. Yum!

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My Paws

I don't know what Mom is doing with my feet and that shiny thing. It feels funny. But as long as she keeps popping those yummy things in my mouth while she messes with the paws--it OK.

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Mmmm, Toes

What is about toes that is so yummy? Mmm, I can't quite place it. Tastes like chicken? Delicious like butt? Wakes Mom up (albeit yelling)? I just don't know. Hmmm, so I just lay here and ponder the tasty joys of toes. At least Dad is appreciative.

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Got 'Em

Yea, I know, sometimes I'm not a nice dog, but a guy's gotta have some fun.

Mom kicked me out of the house again because I farted. I mean, I know she would not be happy. That's why as soon as I did it I got up to leave the room. Man, what more does she want? I don't even get why they get so mad.

Anyhoo, she stopped me before I could get good and gone and made me go in the backyard. And I saw him--some guy in the nice lady's yard next door. First mistake, don't go in the yard next door--I will ask you who you are and what you're doing.

The guy didn't see me, he had his back to me. And he had this loud, really noisy thing in his hand that he was swinging slowly at the bushes. I don't like the loud thing much. Dad uses a loud thing like that all over the grass and it makes me sneeze. Mom uses a loud thing in the house over the floor and if I try to attack it she sends me to another room. But this was a new loud thing that I didn't much like and I decided to tell him as much.

So as not to be rude, I trotted all the way over the fence, until I was right in back of him, and very loudly cleared my throat and in a loud voice--so he could hear me over the din--I asked what he was doing and if he intended to do it all day.

Boy did that guy jump! He also barked or made a sound like a bark or something. He looked mad. I didn't expect that, but that was entertaining enough to make my day, and I trotted right back to my layin' down spot on the deck under the benches.

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They're Home!

Mommy and the kids are back. One day they left the house--yeah what else is new. Dad was around, you know, eating, on the computer, eating, eating some more. I finally had to pound my head on his lap for him to get the hint--hey, walkadog time! But then later I noticed, as I settle down to take a nap on a pile of Mom's clothes that fell from the brown thing when I bumped into it--hey, where's Mom?

After the nap I did a thorough search of the house (well, first I ate, then I went in the yard, chased a rabbit, played with my rope toy--which is pretty much shreds now, I need another one--ran from Dad, had some water, the laid at Dad's feet) and there is no Mom, no little girl who sits on me, no little boy who plays tag with me in the house.

Another boring quiet day and an even more quiet night. Another search of the house turned up nothing. Where did they go? It's worse when Dad goes to work, cause nobody's home. Nobody knows, the trouble I've seen. Nobody knows my sorrow....

Then, yesterday, as I sit in the back yard waiting for Dad to come home, wait, what's that I hear in the house? Intruders! I start barking, I'm barking my ass off "Get the ^&*@ out of my house, you hear me! Get out! My house! Don't go near my bowl, you m*(!@#$ %^&(*@#$'s! Get out I say!"

Wait, ah door opens and...ah Mommy!!! I am so happy to see you. I show her with 6 foot leaps in the air. I jump off the deck and perform the chase my toy I love you dance. I run back to her to do the body check of joy. Why does she not love this? Can she not see my love? I try to kiss her face--are those not tears of joy streaming from her eyes? Why is this not happiness for her as it is for me.

Finally, she puts her bags down and gives me food. She sits on the couch. Me, disheartened, sits in front of her. She lets me get on the couch and rubs me for a long long time. I love my Mom.

But those kids. I don't have the energy for them today. But they are upstairs. Maybe tomorrow.

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Get Your A@# Up! Please.

Listen lady, it's time to walk. I haven't been out in 3 days. Yea I've been in the backyard, but it not the same. You know what I like. The walk. You know, I show you where to go, you yank me, I show you something interesting, you yank me, I investigate a noise, you yank me. I don't even care, say that "heel" word all you want, let's just go!

I've noticed you've been coming home after a real long time these last 3 days. But you come home and sit down then you lay down on "the nice place you won't let me lay anymore" (yeah, that's what I'll be calling it until you let me back in!). Yeah, thanks for rubbing my belly and all that when you are here, but I wants to go out!!! I ain't afraid of the dark--Ruff! OK, that's how you want it. You have one more day lady or else. I'm eyeing your shoes.

Yappy Dog

What is the deal with that little yappy dog next door? He rarely comes out. Sometimes I see a big van come over and two womens take him in the van for a while. (Is there food in there?) Sometimes his Mom lets him walk around in the backyard. Then she picks him up like a toy and carries him in the house. But mostly, I just hear him, day and night, yapping yapping yipping yapping. What the *#&$? It wakes me up sometime when I'm getting a good 2 hour nap on. What could he possibly be barking at all the time? I think that quite possibly he is retarded.

Damn It, Rub My Head!

When I put my head on your lap, that means "rub"! I don't get it. This gestures seems obvious enough. I get right in your way, lay on you, lick your hands even (especially if they smell tasty...or salty...or at all). Rub! Don't push! When you say that "sit" thing, you expect me to do something. Well, I 'm not going to sit any more, so there. Well, I mean, less than I already have not been doing (is that even possible?) I mean I've had a hard night of sleeping on the carpet in your bedroom and a hard morning of sleeping on the carpet in the office. I need soothing. Rub! Or I'll go see what's in the garbage.

I Just Farted Again

I don't know why I do that or how to stop it. I know everybody stops what they're doing, cover their faces, and moan and wave their other arm. Then Mom or Dad make me go outside. Why? I'm done. I already farted.

What's the big deal? I know for a fact Dad farts. Sometimes it tastes like chicken. I heard Mom and the girl fart before. The boy, I never really heard him fart. But I never really see him eat either, just toast and juice.

I wish they'd quit making me crazy about this. I'm lying on the floor minding my own business and it just happens. I feel bad. Just a little. For about 30 seconds.