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.

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!!

Why is it that when Miles comes to visit, he has to sleep with his butt cheek touching mine?

I wonder what happened to Alejandra? It's been more than a few weeks since she and her daughter, Maria, came here to clean the house. I used to love barking at the vacuum cleaner! Maybe they voluntarily went back across the Rio Grande, to live Happily Ever After?

Meanwhile, I was surfing the `net while FatBoy was away, and wandered across this: Baby Names - Beta. Does this mean that I'm Greek? I thought I was Canadian (Labrador)??

Honestly, I don't know what the excitement was about. It seems that FatBoy left town for a 2-day trip to Californica, and he asked The Two Nice People to check on the small dogs (with the long tails) and I.

Early the next morning, The Nice Lady came by and played with us, and then The Nice Man visited us in the afternoon. And then I got to watch TV and catch up on my sleep. When FatBoy returned (sometime after midnight last night), The Nice Man was with him, who seemed happy to have his car back. Something must've been going on, but for the life of me, I can't figure it out.

The FatBoy returned! He gave me some cold French fries, which he says he got as part of a combo meal at a Burger King somewhere in east Texas. I scarfed `em down anyway.

The people who watched me while FatBoy was away were very nice, but I'll rest easier tonight, now that things are back to normal.

Some strangers have come here, twice a day, for the past few days. They've been changing my water and feeding me and the short dogs (with the long tails). And there's a guy in a uniform who opens the gates and checks the doors several times a day.

All this is interrupting my routine. I wonder what happened to FatBoy?

I hate having to sneak around behind FatBoy's back, but he's been grumpy the past few days. I don't think it has anything to do with me or the small dogs (with the long tails) .. he's just in one of Those Moods.

Last Saturday, my little friend Rambo left after some Giant Woman (well, okay, I'm only 24 inches tall, so everyone seems giant to me) came to get him. I gave the house a sniff-over when he left, and then decided to take a nap. I deserved it.

Rambo's been here over a week, and I think he'll be leaving soon. I overheard a message on FatBoy's answering machine, about "bringing him home", so ... it's probably just a matter of time.

This canine (I think someone said he's a Welch Corgi) gets away with murder. This morning, he decided to whiz (and whiz and whiz) on the black cat's litterbox; I guess he got a smell of the fecal matter inside and couldn't avoid contributing to the aroma. I heard FatBoy say a few choice words before grabbing the paper towels. At least Rambo had the courtesy of letting loose on a tile floor instead of the carpets .. this time.

wow! what a surprise - Rambo's here!

FatBoy told me he was leaving "for a few minutes" so I took a Dog Nap, and when I awoke, my old friend Rambo was with him. No clue how long the little tyke'll be here. I sure hope he doesn't whiz on every piece of furniture in the house. If I'm not allowed to do that, he shouldn't be allowed, either.

Plus - how does he whiz without squatting? What's with the leg lift maneuver?

Well, I'm going to sleep early tonight. Miles and I had a great time while he was here this week. There's nothing like having a creature of your same species with whom to play .. to, well .. lift your spirits. Sadly, he and his mom left this afternoon about 5pm, according to the clock on FatBoy's wall.

We both recovered nicely from that brief encounter with The Cat Under The Shed, but I suspect she's still out there, waiting for me to stick my nose underneath for a look-see.

Quite a few humans seem to think that Miles is my puppy, but since he's several years older than me, I don't think that's possible. I do acknowledge the family resemblance, though. Both of us have four feet, a tail, a red collar, black fur ...

My good friend Miles (another Wonder Dog) arrived Sunday night. It is sooo nice to have another canine in the house. Sharing it with one human (FatBoy) and two short dogs (with long tails) is okay, but when you have someone of your own species around, well .. life is gooder*

* please pardon my lack of grammer sometimes. I pick up what I can by reading the old English textbooks, but (without opposable thumbs) sometimes it's hard to put them back on the shelf.

Yesterday, we were minding our own business in the backyard when an Evil Feline (feral, no doubt) attacked Miles, without provocation. Naturally, I rushed to help and succeeded in minimizing his injury (a scratch on his nose) .. but now I'm wondering if this dog has given birth to doglets (or whatever young dogs are called) under the backyard shed. Hmm. Life as a bitch (female dog) is a bitch.

a new human came by today, and she smelled of Another Dog. I think she told FatBoy that she had a German Shepherd Dog at home, but I could be mistaken. I've learned to be careful when humans come into the house, and they're armed. Still, she didn't look like she wanted to hurt anyone.

I tried to jump on her, to show how much I wanted to play, but she seemed to be All Business. When's FatBoy gonna bring someone home that I can just play with? Harumph.