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.