Have you ever farted unexpectedly, such that it startles you? I was laying on the floor of FatBoy's office today, and an unexpected pop under my tail made me shoot up off the floor. It didn't scare me, so I didn't bark at it, but I did look around the room to see if there was anyone I could blame this flatulence on. Sadly, the small dogs (with the long tails) were at the north end of the house.

I heard FatBoy giggle at my plight. I'll get back at him sometime; he does enough stupid things that it won't be long before I can laugh at him. Once I learned how to laugh, that is.

Does anyone have a copy of Campfire Songs translated into Labrador Retriever?

All the Humans are preparing for something called a "Hurricane," so FatBoy has decided that he and I (along with the short dogs (with the long tails) should practice by turning off the electricity and singing campfire songs in front of the gas-burning fireplace.

There are a few problems with that:

1- it's still September. It's over 100 degrees outside. It's too hot for a campfire. The short dogs and I vote FOR keeping the air conditioner on.

2- I'm a dog. I don't DO campfire songs. Look it up on Google if you don't believe me.

3- Now will you double-check my water bowl and food dish? I'm bored and hungry.

Published in The New Yorker July 5, 1993 

I'm not sure what's happening, but FatBoy's been watching more television than usual the past 10 days or so. Every once in awhile, he yells out "doggie!" and points to the screen. Naturally, I don't take the queue; instead I go to the front window and don't see any dogs, and eventually I trot back to the living room.

A few days ago, he muttered something about getting another dog and naming it Katrina. I wonder if he's trying to replace me?