Tag Archives: life

Lecture

I’ve been away.

Not my fault.

Think my typist broke a nail.

Here I am feeling blue. They wouldn’t take me in the store with them.

Stupid rule.

Armstrong discussion

 

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Whaddaya mean ‘if’?

I do rule the world! 

 


The Reading

I had my paw read: apparently you’re not going to sleep too well if you don’t put that camera away. 

 


My Routine

Eyes open. Ceiling, bedroom door. Blanket waaaaaaaarm. Puppies bounding through alfalfa, through flowers buttercup yellow, baying at the moooooooooooon….. Boss over there. He ready for wakes? That strange tummy noise again, like growling. I’m hungry. I want some of those kibble things, a little chicky. But boss still seeps. Hmmmm. What to do? Roll over. Legs up. Ceiling. (Growwwwwwwl). Ok, that does it. Time to stir. Time to climb. Up on the chest, sit and stare. Then lick, lick, lick, and look at that! He’s awake!

Breakfast next. I love to jump up on the kitchen chair, crawl under the table to the other chair, for appropriate proximity to the bran muffin. Lovely little bits of bran muffin, mmmmmmm. Toast, lovely little bits of toast, maybe a blueberry. And noise – lots of noise. I find whining works quite well, though only to a point, of course. 

Then (“back door! back door!”) walkies. Off to the park. The trees, I love the trees. They’re just right for the terrirtorial thing. And the long grasses – they’re where I… Um, you know. One thing I’ve always wondered: why does he pick it up every day? Does he really want it that much? Why? Meeting other puppies – that’s always fun – sniffing noses, sniffing butts. I don’t think you realize how important it is for puppies to say hello. Those of you who dont give us time, keep it in mind.

After walkies, maybe a store or just a ride in the car. Of course, I can’t go into most stores – coz they don’t want me getting too dirty, so they say. In the car I like to sit on the armrest thingy between the seats and look out at where we’re going. I used to climb up on shoulders and sleep, but I don’t do that as much anymore. I prefer my bed now – they keep a spare bed in the car so I can be comfy. 

After rides it’s back home to help him with a bowl of cereal – you know, lick the bowl. Then I head to my chair for a nap. In between snoozes I stare at the world out there, watching people go by. Sometimes they have puppies with them so I watch closely. If they’re small, I let them go quietly, but if they’re bigger I stand up and bark at them, really loudly, just so they know whose place they’re in front of. They really don’t wanna mess with me.

Naps take me toward supper time – I start getting the growlies again about half an hour before, so I start watching to see when they’re going to make their move. Supper is more kibbles and chicky – the chair thing, the crawling-under-the-table thing, the squeaky wheel. And then again the growlies are gone. Funny how that works. 

After supper more naps. Gotta sleep it off and contemplate my day. They watch TV – things they call ‘news‘ and ‘sports‘. I don’t get it, but I let them do their thing. At least until it’s time to play. At play time I get my favourite toy and hold it in my mouth ’til one of them notices me. They, of course, don’t want to play, so they try to take it away from me, and that’s when the fun really starts. I win. I always win.

Then more naps, and a nice, slow night walk so I can – you know. Sometimes I meet a puppy on the night walk, but mostly I don’t. Mostly I just make a note of who else has been walking around my neighbourhood. They leave me messages, so of course, I leave them messages too. 

Back home, and before long everybody’s ready for bed. I head off to the bedroom, orient myself properly, curl up into a tight little ball in the corner of my blanket. They cover me with my blanket – and soon I’m comfy and cozy and warm. Nice. My eyes close, and before long I’m seeps.

 


In a Bubble?

In a bubble?Silly question: but of course I’d spend it sleeping…

  

And going for my walks…

   

 

And talking to my friends…

 
 

And eating…

 

Oh, and doing math in my head.
  


Partay!

I can always tell when there’s something left over.

 


Helplessness

“Ok, I get that I’m little, but tell me again why that means I can’t have any of the treats you just had…”