Rambo was here for a visit last week. Apparently his owner was in the hospital. You may remember that he's short; I heard FatBoy say something about "Welsh Corgi" but he didn't look like grape jelly to me.

Anyway, he has some weird habits. One of them is his reaction when FatBoy presses that button on his desk, many times a day. I think he calls it a KVM Switch, but I can't see up there, so I don't know what it does, other than make a little sound which drove Rambo crazy every time he'd press it. And, Rambo never learned - he'd bark like crazy every time the switch was pressed, which often interrupted my cat naps.

Honestly, I'm glad he's gone. Now I can get some uninterrupted rest.

Why do the short dogs get all the best toys? Yesterday, FatBoy came home with some yummy cookies (he calls them "dog treats") and he also had a small brush (comb?) which he used on the small dogs that purr. Neither of them has a name tag like mine, since they never-ever get to go outside - he must be punishing them.

It seems like the little dogs with the long tails have their own "annual examination" coming soon - they each got a postcard from Doctor Freeze. Why do they get all the fun? I wanna go! I wanna go! I wanna go!

Anyway, back to this new comb. I heard FatBoy tell someone on the phone that he paid ONE DOLLAR for it. Geez, that sounds like a lot of money, the way he emphasized it. "A DOLLAR!" he said .. "ONE ENTIRE DOLLAR!!".

Anyway, the little dogs seem to like it. The fat dog rubbed up again FatBoy's leg this morning, and he scratched her back and she started that purrrrrring again. Geez, I hate that! I have tried and tried and tried and tried and tried and tried to purrrrr but I can't. Mine comes out like a growwwwwwl.

My breath's not bad - is it?

Today, FatBoy came home from some place called "Sprouts" (I read the bag) and had a box of Good Buddy dog cookies from a company called Castor & Pollux. He's brought home their cheese cookies before, and they are very tasty.

Today, however, he bought their "spearmint & parsley flavor" which is supposed to improve my breath. Harumph! My breath's already perfect, and doesn't need improvement. To prove it, I'm gonna go chew on my possum in the backyard again ... then breathe on everyone in the house. Mmm .. minty fresh!

What a day.

I've been limping the past few days, ever since Miles (my BFF) left. So FatBoy apparently called The Vet and pretended not to be concerned, but I knew he was. He still has pictures of Tori (she was a black Lab before me, who died of something called "mast cells"). Apparently her downfall started with a limp, too.

Anyway, I stopped limping when Vet Day rolled around (what exactly is "Murphy's Law" anyway?). But I couldn't see Doctor Freeze (why does the vet keep his stethoscope in the freezer?) without having something wrong with me, so .. I spotted a bug on the sidewalk, just outside the vet's office, and proceeded to swallow it. Blech! I was frothing at the mouth for several minutes, before FatBoy led me inside. I was the only patient at the time, and we went back to The Tiny Room for a few minutes.

When the time had come to see Doctor Freeze, he led me to a back room, drew a blood sample and gave me a pedicure! It was then that I decided to Show Off and started frothing again, but I added a few spasms (dramatic effect). This seemed to concern Doctor Freeze, until FatBoy spilled the beans and told him about my encounter outside. I then decided to froth some more. Doctor Freeze said that FatBoy should watch me and see if this gets worse. As if!

Hey, FatBoy! Reach up there and hand me another Mr. Barky's - pronto!

I brought Pammy (my opossum) to the backdoor for another visit last night. She lives under the storage shed in the backyard, and keeps getting bigger and bigger, so she must be eating plenty of bugs. FatBoy says I'm no longer a Labrador Retriever, and am now an Opossum Retriever.

This is the third time I've brought it to the backdoor, but this is the first time I wanted to bring it inside (it was 1AM - and YES I can tell time!).

FatBoy politely (!) told me NO and I dropped it in the threshold; he then got a broom handle and pushed it fully outside, and invited me in for the night. By morning, Pammy was gone.

FatBoy says there are some good 'possum recipes on the web, so maybe he'll cook it up if I bring it home again?

I just heard that my Best Friend Forever (Miles) isn't feeling good. He's on anti-inflammatory meds and muscle relaxants. He was in the emergency room yesterday morning! Every 8 hours he gets one large pill, then once a day he gets some anti-inflammatory liquid. And NO activity for the next 5-7 days.

Poor little guy! At least he quit shaking!

(all this info from an email that Miles' mom sent to FatBoy, which he read to me)

FatBoy gave me the new password this morning, so I can now blog again - wheee!!

I don't know if he forgot to pay the water bill, or what, but lots of water has been falling from the sky in the past few weeks. And if there's one thing I (a Labrador Retriever) cannot stand, it's water.

When FatBoy opens the back door so I can go potty (or tinkle) the water gets between my pads and feels squishy. I don't like that. So often I'll just step five or six steps outside the back door and squat right there. I never understood why FatBoy doesn't do it this way. Instead, he sits on the Big White Chair. I'm happy to guard him, just in case.

Well, that was sure different. FatBoy's on holiday this week, so he's busy doing stuff around the house. At about 4:30 (bet you didn't know I can tell time!) he asked if I wanted to Go For A Ride? What a stoopidt question - OF COURSE!

Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go! Let's go!

What he forgot to tell me is that he was taking me to The Dog Wash. I don't know if this was punishment or what, but when we arrived, he lifted me (with help) into a metal container and proceeded to squirt water and soap and rinse all over me. Then he tried (ha!) to blow dry me, but I was NOT going to fall for that. I tried my best to excape (is that how you spell it?) but they had me tied down with two harnesses, so I couldn't get away. Meanwhile, there was a tiny-tiny dog (looked more like a hotdog to me) sitting in a basket, laughing. Yes, she was laughing at me.

FatBoy used a couple chamois rags to dry me down, and then it was time to go home.

When we got home, there was an email in FatBoy's mailbox:

Hi Beta,

We sure did enjoy meeting you today. Boy did you look super when you left--You just about knocked our socks off! We can't wait until your next visit when special doggy treats await you!

Bow Wow,
DiRty DaWgz

The only part I don't understand is about "socks" - what are those?

what's a yoof-a-mism?

I heard FatBoy talking into The Magic Box again today, and he said "Beta's as dumb as a box of rocks. And that's an insult to the rocks." And then he laughed.

Then he said something about my elevator not going all the way to the top. Then he said I was several tacos short of a combination plate.

I don't know what ANY of this means. Why can't he speak Dog, like everyone else around here?

I'm working on an ad I hope to sneak into the local newspaper:

"SINGLE BLACK FEMALE seeks male companionship, ethnicity unimportant. I'm a very good girl who LOVES to play. I love long walks in the woods, riding in your pickup truck, hunting, camping and fishing trips, cozy winter nights lying by the fire. Candlelight dinners will have me eating out of your hand. I'll be at the front door when you get home from work, wearing only what nature gave me. Kiss me and I'm yours."

Okay .. I actually found this ad on the Internet, written about 3 years ago by some humans associated with the Atlanta Humane Society, whatever that is. It was written by one of my cousins, a female black Lab named Daisy.

Word is that 15,000+ humans called in response to that ad, but I'm suspicious.

Purina Naturals for cats

Purina Naturally Complete for Dogs

I'm not much into Change. Routines make me happy. FatBoy change my dog food. Me now eat Purina Natually Complete. It very yummy. I notice he change food for small dogs with long tail to Purina Naturals. Both "black one" and "fat one" like it muchly. What is "cat" anyway?

Now, I'm hungry. Woof woof.

Okay, I don't get the joke. FatBoy just put this on his car, then took me out to see it. What does it say? Doesn't he know that I can't read? Or laugh?

Dog Smarter Bumper Sticker

When FatBoy asked "do you want to take a break?!?!" I happily hopped to the backdoor. He didn't tell me that he had the backyard redone overnight.

Now, there's white paint (or something) covering some parts of the ground. Not sure I like it. It's cold, but tastes pretty good. Maybe it could stand a little beef seasoning?

There are times when no court would ever convict me, if I simply gnawed FatBoy to death while he slept. This is inhumane, no matter how you slice it.

I think I figured out why FatBoy likes the little dogs better than me; they've learned how to do something called "purr". Apparently it involves rubbing up against something (either a cardboard box, or furniture) and making a low, rumblng sound. Maybe they're hungry? FatBoy keeps their food bowls out of my reach, so I can't tell if they're out of food. And no, they are NOT welcome to eat MY food (which is kept at ground level) ... I'm not much into sharing food. It's okay to share the couch .. they can even touch my butt if they want, but I draw the line when it comes to chow.

Still, I must learn the secrets of this "purr" thing.

I don't think it's related to Purrina (the name on the bags of food) but I'm not yet sure what to make of it.

Meanwhile, I have a new hobby, but FatBoy doesn't know it yet. I'm learning to install "Puppy Linux", which would be easier if I had opposable thumbs. More on this later ...

I'm bummed. Yesterday, I got to see Dr. Freeze and today, the two small dogs (with the long tails) had their turn.

Seems that FatBoy was waiting for a conference call to begin, and noticed that both of their rabies vaccinations expired today. I guess those vaccines are very precise, and if he'd waited until just after midnight, they might've contracted rabies and come looking to bite ME!

Anyway, he did that over his lunch break today, so now I can sleep easier. Whew! That was a close call. Guess I should figure out how to complain about FatBoy to the SPCA of Texas.

FatBoy didn't give me more than 30 seconds to prep myself, but I got to see my Bestest Friend In The Whole World Today: Doctor Vet!

Going there only twice a year doesn't give me a lot of time to talk to my friend. I'd like to explain my insecurities and feeling of inadequacy, but FatBoy's usually concerned with making sure Dr. Vet sticks enough needles in me, and pours stuff up my nose, that I can't concentrate.

Quibble: even though I'm fur-lined, Dr. Vet's stethoscope always seems on the cold side. I wonder if he stores it in that mini-fridge in between appointments?

While I was there today, I saw One Of My People, although I suspect she's a different race. She was a Chocolate Lab, and since her skin color's different from mine, I must find a way to hate her appropriately. I tried barking and screeching and even attempted to dislocate FatBoy's arm, but nothing worked .. I couldn't get to her! I must practice.

Since FatBoy didn't give me time to prepare (I could've used a Furmination) I wasn't ready to provide The Sample (you know -- stool) that Dr. Vet seems to adore. But, as soon as I got home, I went into the backyard and provided the most enormous, fragrant sample I could squeeze out. FatBoy seemed very pleased, even gathering a bit into a plastic bag. I'm guessing he wanted it for his collection.

There are times when it's really nice not having a brain.

My best friend Miles was here the past several weeks, and he left Friday afternoon. While he was here, I had a great time running and jumping with him, not to mention sleeping next to him at night, butts touching.

Now that he's gone, well, I don't miss him (because I have no brain). I didn't wander through the house and backyard looking for him. As long as my food dish is full when I'm hungry, and my water dish is full when I'm thirsty, I'm a happy camper.

Now, it's time for a nap.

Miles left a few weeks ago, but FatBoy told me (this morning) that he's returning tomorrow for a longer visit.

Oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy oh boy!!