This is the day I was adopted. I was a little guy back then.
Tug O'War with my buddy, Tony.
You see, since I am so active, I don't have much fat on my bones. When I sleep, my Mama tucks me in with my favorite blanket because I get really cold.
Chillin' at my Nana's house.
"You want me to do what?!"
I'm just waiting for you to throw that ball, old guy.
Poolside.
Rain or shine, I'm playing ball.
In the winter, I won't go outside without my fur coat. My Daddy bought this for me.
I'm not allowed on the furniture, but every now and then Mommy lets me get comfy, and then I show off.
It's a tough life, but somebody's got to do it. This was at my old house.
Leather couches are mine. Mom says my hair doesn't stick to them and she can easily clean them. Booyah!
"Bye-bye - let's go!"
This was the day I met my best friends, JAG and Austin. I love them so. 
See that tongue? I've been busy chasing the ball or a squirrel or my slow sister Molly. Good times on the farm.
I found my reflection on the dishwasher. My I look funny!
See me pointing? It's a natural instinct y'all. 
The two recliners…
Ok. I’ve decided the carpet sucks. Yeah, its snobbish and whatnot, but let’s be honest…the recliner is where its at.
We have two.
Boom, baby, boom.
Personally, I prefer the newer, stiffer recliner. Helps my back.
But then again, there’s a certain charm to Daddy’s recliner because its so beaten down with years of football-watching.
Hmmmm…which to choose…which to choo…oh…here he comes. Easy decision, whatever he doesn’t take.
How many beds do you have? Me? I have seven.
Of course, there’s my crate which is left open for me to come and go. Its a modest joint. Pillow with some old sheets wrapped around it. Smells like dog.
Then there’s the recliner my Daddy doesn’t sit in.
Then there’s the couch, the patio deck, behind the recliner, and under the computer desk.
But my favorite…my absolute FAVORITE…is the bed. The REAL bed. I love jumping in there when they are both asleep. I burrow my way under the sheets and snuggle up right next to their toes. One time, I was dreaming about chasing this goose and I guess I got a little too into it. Hey, help me out here. Do you know what, “OHMYGAWD THAT HURTS” means?
Messy eaters are the coolest…
When the big man puts my bowl down, I have a nice routine on how I eat. First, I look around sheepishly. Is Destro the Cat nearby? Ooh, boy, that cat better not be. I’ll bite him. Mark it eight, dude…I’ll take a chomp.
No? STILL not allowed to chomp the cat?
Boo.
Ok, so when the coast is clear, I like to eat my food BESIDE the bowl. Grab a few nuggets and drop them on the carpet beside the bowl. This not only gets the nuggets moist, it also makes the big guy vacuum later. Heh heh. Get some.
You should try this at restaurants like Applebee’s.
The greatest “people food”…
Every once in a while, I’ll do something amazing. Like the laundry. Or some push-ups. Or not chew up a recliner.
Its these types of occasions, Daddy skips the regular dog treat and gives me a little nibble of people food. OH.MY.GOODNESS.
Have you had people food? Good, right?
Here’s the best:
*Pizza (Not Papa Johns)
*Steak
*Pasta
*Slice of Bread (white, not wheat)
*Anything Destro isn’t allowed to eat.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m gonna vacuum to earn myself a little something something from that oven.
Music that makes my tail wag extra fast…
For some reason, I can’t seem to nail down the honeys like I expected. I’m good looking, right? Got the whole, “long nose” thing going. And check out my little bitty tail. See that? You see how I can make it zip back and forth? Chicks should be DIGGING this, right?
Sadly, I’m stuck with Molly.
Plus, I’ve got no balls. Literally. So, yeah.
But still, it would be nice to have a girlfriend to catch a movie with. Or maybe even sharing a plate of pasta in a back alley. So I’ve decided to up my game to really pull in the babes. Starting with better music preferences I’m really digging now.
*Springsteen
*George Strait
*Sugarland
*The Zac Brown Band
*Motley Crue
Pretty diverse right? Well, duh. Different hotties like different stuff. Everyone knows boxers dig Sugarland. And everyone knows bulldogs sweat George Strait. Poodles? Those uppity snooties roll over for Springsteen and don’t get me started on the love labs have on Motley Crue.
Now excuse me while I load up my iPod with things to make the hotties howl.
My personal war with the softball…
I don’t get it.
It doesn’t breathe. It makes no motions. And yet, there’s something beneath that leather texture.
Of course, the big man doesn’t let me chew on it long enough to get past the leather.
Someday. Someday, soon…he’ll turn his back. Then we’ll see what’s doing underneath the leather shell of this so-called, “soft ball.”
My dreams…
Lots of people wonder what I dream about. They see me moving my legs and her me growling in my sleep.
Well, truth be told, its not that exciting. What do you think I’m dreaming about? Chasing stuff, of course. The softball. Destro. Squirrels. Leaves blowing around in the wind. All kinds of stuff. Basically, I just race around trying to catch things nobody else cares about and then bring them back.
Oh, and Jennifer Love Hewitt. She’s amazingly hot. So yeah, I dream about curling up with her and showing her my short little tail. Chicks dig that.
My love of white bread…
Listen, I’m already trained pretty well. Can’t quite figure out the stick shift on the jeep, but I’m getting close. (That clutch is tough).
Otherwise, I’ve got most things down. But don’t you go telling the big guy that. He still thinks he can teach me new things by treating me to delicious slices of white bread.
Have you had this? Oh.my.goodness. My favorite move is to savor the bread. First I start with the crust as I gently peel it away, strip-by-strip. Then, I’ll paw it around into a little ball and shove that into my mouth like I’m chewing some tobacco. Destro hates this, which, altogether, makes it that much better.
So yeah, I’ll throw my paw up to shake…but only if he’s got some white bread. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some Jeepin' to do.
No comments:
Post a Comment