When FatBoy leaves the house, I sometimes turn on the TV and watch the Animal Planet network. I'm not sure why, but when he went to run errands yesterday, I turned to the Weather Channel for a few minutes, and see that they've run out of names for 2005 Hurricanes (the small-brained ones didn't like the few choices for names beginning with Q/U/X/Y/Z) .. so they're going to use the letters from the Greek alphabet next.

Well, isn't that a fine How Do You Do? In two more storms, there could be a Tropical Storm Beta (or even Hurricane Beta). And then everyone will blame ME! I demand a recount.

Reference: CNN.com - Atlantic storm names may go Greek - Sep 20, 2005

well, I almost tore the fence down again. those squirrels were running along the top, and I did my usual BODY SLAM against it, trying to make them fall into my mouth, but it didn't work. come to think of it, that has never worked. but I'll keep trying. I hope FatBoy doesn't notice where I dislodged the fence planks. maybe I can sneak out when he's not looking, and eat one of those short dogs (with the long purring tails) that live across the street.

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?

When FatBoy tells me how long he'll be gone, sometimes I "run out" for awhile.

Today, I ran to the local Palm Reader, but she sent me away. She said I didn't have a palm .. only "pads".

If I had tear ducts, I'd cry. This is so unfair.

oh, man! cat food is Y-U-M-M-Y.

not that I can reach it, usually .. FatBoy keeps it on the countertop, where Black Cat can jump up and munch as much as she wants. But TODAY .. her tummy must've been upset since she coughed up the food in the big bathroom. Yes, right there on the floor, where I had easy access.

Mmm, mmm .. that stuff's tasty even after Black Cat "pre-digested" it.

Well, it's a bit brighter red and fits better, so .. maybe FatBoy did something right for a change. I'm (of course) talking about my new 22" collar. It's the only clothing I wear. Good thing, since it's in the high 90's most days, this time of year. The 78F air conditioning is much nicer.

Back to my collar: before he tossed it in the trash, I saw the tag for my collar. Turns out it's called a "Comfort Cushion" from Aspen Pet, and since it was in a Petco bag, I'm pretty sure that's where he got it.

Well, time to take a nap. I do that often, and am very, very good at it.

While FatBoy was out, I was web surfing, and found this site: Sam ... World's Ugliest Dog

Yeesh! That is one U-G-L-Y mutt.

Jill Bob sent FatBoy an email with some Cat Haiku: how revolting. He laughed, but I didn't see the humor.

Since I recently learned to use A9, I easy found some Dog Haiku that's much more on target. Maybe I'll write some of my own?

Dammit, Janet! FatBoy tricked me - again!

Here he was, praising me and telling me what a Good Girl I am, then he leaned over and <squirt> he put that flea stuff between my shoulder blades, where I can't reach to lick it off. Argh!

Then, he tricked me again by offering a treat, which turned out to be that heartworm prevention pill. It tastes like chalk! I know it tastes like chalk because I used to eat chalk when I was young.

Oh well, what's done is done. I'll not fall for this trick again next month! (or will I?)

Arooooooooooo!!

Bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark bark.

<pant pant pant>

Bark bark bark.

<fart>

I thought FatBoy was taking me for a ride, but we ended up at the vet. Apparently I weigh 83.5 pounds now.

The vet's a nice enough guy, but I swear he keeps that stethoscope in the freezer before listening to my heartbeat. He then took me to the back room (out of FatBoy's sight) and took a blood sample (something about "heartworm test"). Then, he stuck me with needles - 3 times, then poured some liquid up my nose (yeesh - I hate that!). He pointed another instrument in each ear, then yet another instrument to check my eyes.

I guess I'm healthy, since he let me leave (after FatBoy signed something - what's a Visa Card, anyway?). Now, I'm back home and feeling just a little woozy .. time for a nice nap.

Across the street, a yellow van pulled up to the neighbor's home. I hadn't seen that one before. On the side, it says "Soggy Doggy Mobile Dog Grooming". Hmmm. I wonder what they do?

For the past several years, I've seen a purple "Pet Love" van stop by once every few weeks.

I wonder how hard it was to change the van color from purple to yellow?

something must be up: today, FatBoy put 3 Hawaiian leis around my neck. There's one of each: red, blue and white. Then he stood back to look and laugh at me, like he'd accomplished something spectacular. What a putz!

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.

I don't know what it is about small dogs with long tails, but they're not welcome in my yard. Since you probably read my blog, allow me to address you directly:

The two small dogs who live with me (the black one and the fat one) are okay. They both let me chase them sometimes, or we run through the house together. But you neighborhood dogs come into my yard (even under the pecan tree in the backyard!) and I never, ever gave you permission to do so.

Maybe if I could just bark (talk) to you, we could reach an understanding. I'll stay inside the house, except when FatBoy lets me into the backyard for some R&R, and you stay the heck off my property!

Don't think I don't see you taking a dump in our flower beds, or sitting under the tree waiting for a squirrel to come into range! And yes, I know that you can catch and kill a squirrel when I can't (you're smaller and quieter), but don't think for a moment that I'm granting you a free pass.

I'm watching you, Dog. Maybe one day we can chat (bark) about how our roles are defined?

Okay, that's done. I've had my say. Now, time to go back to guarding the house.

Ah, fresh food. I polished off the last of the Beneful (Shiny Coat Formula) and FatBoy opened a new bag, so I'm sated for now.

I'm so glad he learned to leave the food in the bag, rather than dumping it into that plastic container. He has no idea how that plastic taste leaches into the food after a couple weeks. I might as well be eating a Barbie Doll: blech.

I wonder if FatBoy has read this article: American Kennel Club - AKC eNewsletter. Since I get to stay inside most of the time (in the air conditioning) I've never been too bothered by the Texas summer.

Yesterday, I saw FatBoy looking at one of those mail order catalogs, and heard him laugh. Later, when he went on one of his errands, I looked at the catalog and saw he was looking at a dog watering device, triggered by a motion sensor whenever I'd walk over to it. Yeah, right. Like I have the brains to use that.

FatBoy's never, ever given me a bath but I think I smell pretty dern good. I've sniffed the butts of a few long-haired dogs over the years, and they reeeeek!

Still, my favorite sniff was The Goat at the Richardson Animal Shelter (where FatBoy found me). I wish I could've spent more time with him (her?) as the bleats were unlike anything else I've experienced.

Today's the 15th .. that means I'll probably get squirted with that anti-flea stuff again. Yeesh.