Complete success in Helsinki

We are back from Helsinki! We are well (thank's for asking...) and have accomplished our latest DETH goal for Commander Dexter. Our mission? To obtain, from the formidable Maxim Corgi, an old school period-piece communist propaganda/advertising slogan for the Finnish to wear on their biathlon uniforms during this year's winter olympics. For those of you who don't recall Dexter's orders, it is now up to Poncho to persuade Rumba to have this precious slogan applied to each and every biathlon team member's uniform. Rumba then needs to convince a noble Olympian to shoot a Russian biathlete in the rumpa (Oh, don't be SOFT- it won't hurt much...), and we have ourselves a full-blown reignited Cold War! (The Cold War was SO much more entertaining than this current terror thing...)

Needless to say, I'm exhausted. I've just returned home after piloting the DETH jet to Helsinki and back. I deposited my security squad- Vincent and Axel- back into their warm beds after 48 hours of non-stop action. They performed magnificently in Helsinki, as we all knew they would. Axel never once took his eyes off of me, and Vincent fed me peeled carrots like a seasoned pro. My boys are perfect... They were successful in keeping in-dog-nito, and Maxim never once laid tempermental eyes on them.

As far as Maxim goes... I'm getting too old for this crap. Oh ya, I got the slogan alright. It took 24 solid hours of being herded around the couch, pretending to have fun (I find being herded SO tedious, especially after the 12th hour). He made me pretend to be a tiny cow and it turned him on to nip at my heels. He put teeth marks in my Prada boots. I feigned delight and squeeled, "moo, moo!" - this only served to excite him all the more. He'd back me into a corner and I'd have to cower and pretend to be conquered. Let's just say it's suddenly clear to me how he got the nick-names Humppa, and Psyko... My Dog. I deserve a raise for THIS one. After all of this, as he was slipping into unconsciousness from sheer exhaustion, I whispered in his ear, "What would you say to a common foe who was attempting to compete with you, my cranky cow captain?" He muttered, the golden words-

"YOUR ASS IS GRASS AND I'M THE LAWN-MOWER".

Somewhat disappointing, but I wasn't about to invest another 24 hours of corgi antics to wait for a better one. He fell asleep and I escaped to the safety of my beloved German Shepherds, patiently waiting outside the door to assist me if things got out of hand. We then spent the the next 24 hours recovering. Axel held a cool compress to my tiny forehead and Vincent fed me peeled carrots. If we never set foot in Helsinki again, it will be too soon.

I think, after this onerous mission, DETH should fund a tropical vacation for Vincent, Axel, and myself. Perhaps a collective beach party for all DETH members to celebrate another year of hard earned success. I suppose it depends on the final outcome of our unfinished mission. It's up to Poncho now. Nothing puts Dexter in a more generous mood than the promise of another Cold War... Let's go, PONCHO!

Request for Backup

I have put in a formal request with Dexter to enlarge my security squad. This being for reasons twofold. #1) I have grown immensely fond of Vincent Black Lightening and I cannot sleep at night for fear that Maxim Corgi will cause harm to him during our upcoming operative to Helsinki. & #2) Axel Von Dopplebach is one hunka-hunka burnin' luv and seems very attentive to me... So, if my request is approved, I shall be departing to Finland with two screamingly attractive, not-to-be-reckoned-with, German Shepherds. Oh, it's good to be the Queen...

The last straw...

I consider myself a formidable canine capable of stiking fear in the hearts of beasts greater in size than I, and certainly smaller. I walk the earth afraid of no living thing (unless it happens to be a gang of weapons-toting city squirrels, creepy old men, largish ladies in pink velour track suits, small teetering human offspring... you know. The unarguably terrifying aspects of everyday life). I've lived my life- without question- the queen of my household. The cats know they'll be "dealt with" if they get out of line. A sharp rap to the head, a quick kick in the tiny bottom. They understand this. They're comfortable with their place in the household. In fact, until mommy brought that last dumpster cat home, I had grown used to the felines...even perhaps acknowledging that our sharing of the living space was symbiotic in nature. I let them live & they occasionally give me a snack if daddy gets lax in his guarding of the kitty box duties. But the third, heinous feline is beyond acceptance. Past the point of no return. Forever my nemesis. In fact, just today, she reared up on her shaky hind legs and bitch slapped me across the face with both front paws. She pinned her ears back, in a MOST disrespectful gesture, and hissed her horrendous viper-like breath in my face. You ask yourself, "What must you have done, darling Seva, to deserve such an afront"? The answer is nothing. I simply happened to be "in her way" after she was reprimanded for tearing the frozen chicken bag apart as it thawed in the sink. She was outraged, thus transferring her anger onto me in the form of well-placed bitch slaps to my right and left cheek. I was too stunned to respond, else I would have swiftly crushed her windpipe... Currently I am too angry to even study Maxim Corgi... I shall just go off to the corner and softly whistle until I am given a Greenie for my pain and suffering. Greenies make everything better; even being assaulted in my own castle by a tiny emaciated cat by the name of Cleopatra. Cleopatra assaults the royal dog of Egypt. I think I'll make myself useful and begin construction of her burial pyramid...

The morning after...

Got a little crazy last night. Will be paying for it today. But generally I am well, and in a favorable mood. As is always the routine, mommy and daddy have given up on their unfair decree to banish me from the family room. The trusty high-pitched incessant whistle came through for me once again. Currently I am curled up on a soft quilt, in front of the fireplace. I am wearing a silk eyemask, have a tiny ice pack on my head, and am sipping a mimosa. I am dictating to my mommy as I am not feeling so inclined to type this morning...

I want to set the record straight, as is only fair. Turns out, the decline for grapes request was not so much a budget limitation as a reminder that grapes can be hard on a lady's kidneys... I will have to find another less toxic alternative for 2006. Dexter loves me, even if he can be a bit sparing with his gifts... Vincent?! Let's snack on tofu in Helsinki... Wait. I'm allergic to soy... Vincent?! Let's bring some carrots to Helsinki! Carrots it will be.

And I won't be hot-tubbin' with Jakey as, apparently, it may get Jakey killed...

With that being said, I shall return to my slumber and begin finalizing my preparations for Helsinki tomorrow. Have a peaceful New Years Day, my friends.

It's the most.. wonderful time.. of the year!

I hope everyone's Christmas was a hoot. Mine was. My mommy was sick but that didn't stop me from having a raucous good time. Oh, I laughed and ate and drank and ate some more. I got some fabulous gifts including an entire meat and cheese tray... The latter wasn't so much a GIFT, as an "I believe I'll help myself to this savory sustenance while the family is in the room which they have decided is off limits to me" bonus that I paid myself. I like to think of it as restitution for my pain and suffering. Anyways, the New Year is nearly upon us and then life will be restored to normalcy for another 11 months. I have a masquerade party to attend tomorrow night which will officially put an end to the season's frivolity. It's all business for me thereafter. No more holiday party girl with limited discipline. I soon will be embarking on my Helsinki DETH mission for which several weeks I have been diligently preparing. So here's to you, Maxim Corgi... Prepare to meet your tantilizing Egyptian downfall. Vincent, darling, we're really going this time, right after the first of the year (I couldn't miss my party...). Forget about the grapes. Apparently, our rinky-dink budget no longer allows me to snack on my nutritious, delicious, delicate globes of sweet energy. Ap-PAR-ently, our finances allow us to feed but on wood, pine needles, and ROCKS while we are putting our lives on the line in Helsinki... Perhaps I'm pouting, but HOW are we to dominate the world on such a paltry budget, Commander Dexter?! How am I to work like this?! I was promised at least the HOPE of world domination. I can't dominate the world with the energy I receive from eating sticks and rocks. I know the expenses in Aruba got a bit out of hand but I told you, the Cartier watch, Burberry of London trench, Dior shades, Prada hip boots, Dolce & Gabana boy shorts and leather bustier, as well as diamond encrusted stilts were ESSENTIAL for that particular mission! Just ask Francis...

Oh, and Dexter, there IS one thing that I have to do on the way to Helsinki. Could Vincent and I make a quick jaunt to Lancaster County, PA on the way to Finland? I want to go hot-tubbin' with Jakey.

Anyhoo! I digress. What I really wanted to accomplish tonight was to wish all of my darling dogster friends a divine New Year. I hope you have a memorable evening which paves the way for a tremendous 2006!

What's the big deal?

It's Christmas Eve and I'm feeling insulted. I've just been informed that I am no longer welcome in the family room- The room with the roaring fireplace and the fuzzy throne. To banish me from my throne in front of the fire is unreasonable...cruel even. This decree apparently the result of a recent "three strikes and you're out" measure. Allow me to explain. Yesterday happened to be the 3rd time in 2.5 weeks that I've chosen to potty on the family room carpet. I'll admit it hasn't been based on "need" exactly. I've been outside frequently enough, even if I am forced to tip-toe outside over the ice-encrusted snow to tinkle on the frozen tundra of Minnesota. Having to endure temperatures obscenely below zero, resulting in my tiny nostrils freezing together with every inhalation... This is, however, my 13th winter in this Dog-forsaken biome so I can take it. (But I do reserve the right to complain about it...) No, it hasn't been the frosty thermometer that has forced me to urinate in the family room. Actually, it's been the overwhelming STANK of the English Springer Spaniel that lived here before us. I don't believe that this cur actually lifted his leg down there, but nevertheless I am reminded of him day in and day out. I don't care that my mommy and daddy can't smell him, he's there! All around me... perhaps mocking me. The only solution to this conundrum is to cover his smug, condescending stink with my own fragrant bodily fluids. Unfortunately, my mommy and daddy, being the olfactory dolts that they are, can only smell MY fresh scent and thus punish and deprive me as a result. So from here on out, I live the rest of my life banished to the upstairs. Which means there is no one to guard the chimney tonight when that fat guy in the crushed red velvet comes creeping down it. Let them blame each other when they wake up tomorrow morning to black sooty size 14 footprints all over their precious family room carpet!

That's a wrap! (cashmere, I believe...)

Here I sit, dabbing at the crystaline tear traversing down my silken face with my satin hanky. I just finished the Great American Novel. Lyle has really outdone himself this time. Pulitzer prize for literature, Booker award, Newbury, Hugo... Perhaps next the Nobel Peace Prize and who knows... maybe even an Oprah book club nominee. All literary committees await his acceptance speech. Others may be nominated this year, but only by procedural necessity. He's an artistic genius. I have to admit, there were times when I seriously questioned his judgement. I was all, "I don't think it's necessary to separate me from my shoe, Lyle" and he was all, "it's imperative to the story line, Seva". I was occasionally moody, cranky, demanding, and down-right abusive. But he never altered his artistic course. There is NOTH-ing sexier than an unwavering Whiggle... Here's to being reunited with our favorite shoes! Oh yes, and all strays finding a permanent home for Christmas, and friendship, and loyalty... yada yada.

It was fun while it lasted...

A full 36 hours is all it took. Mommy, Daddy and tiny Grandpa came to the conclusion that they would be better off maintaining two harmoniously SEPARATE households... Mommy is in a much better mood, Grandpa is well cared for, Daddy is no longer pulling out his hair... all is well. I think I'll take a nap now.

Squirrels to the left of me, Grandpa to my right...

The real story materializes. Perhaps my mommy and daddy moved me to the prairie of Minnesota for reasons other than the inner-city Minneapolis squirrels and their advancing threats to my well-being. "Let's move to the country, Seva!" they exhorted. "There'll be no more gangsta' squirrels engaging in nefarious deeds" they reasoned. I thought to myself a moment...Those tiny whirling numchucks; the switchblades flashing in the sunlight while passing from tiny right hand to tiny left hand; my karate kicks blowing harmlessly past each empty little head as they mock me unscathed... Ya, I could do without 'em. But move from the city?! Do blue-collared country labradors even recognize Prada? Do they even appreciate vintage couture collars? As I began to contemplate these mysteries, the real reason for our move came teetering through the door. Creepy little Grandpa. Mommy's dad. Stands 5 feet tall, weighs less than I do, unsteady on his feet, has ears larger than my own, and is older than me... (I thought for certain no living thing was older than me.) Turns out he's not well. (You THINK?! He looks like he died a few years ago... ) So not only do I have to adjust to living in a town with more tractors than cars, WITH a new feral cat- mind you... but I also have to get comfortable with a tiny wobbly man as grey in color and as surly in demeanor as the inner-city squirrels that I was just manipulated into leaving... I think very soon will I be embarking on my Helsinki DETH mission. Even Maxim Corgi has to be more relaxing than this place... Vincent?! Pack your bags (Purple seedless grapes, darling. Skins on are okay for this trip. Smooches!)

I'm the Birthday Girl !

It's been a wonderful birthday, indeed. I slept in late. Did some monitoring of the homefront. Ate some breakfast of kibble and baby carrots. Went back to bed. Did a bit more monitoring of the homefront. (I'm not entirely certain of the neighbor labrador's motives as of yet. Could be friend or foe... I'm not making a judgement yet.) I then took a nap. I then woke up. I had a luxurious belly and back rub by my mommy. I then got hissed at by the new cat. (I swear I was not intending to STEAL her food, I was merely attempting to evaluate the meal's freshness as a courtesy to her.) I then was thrilled to find rosettes awarded to me by Commander Dexter and my pal Radar, and a large supply of new bones by my good friend and fellow DETH agent, Morgan Anna Maria. I was serenaded with birthday poetry by my official poet Isabella Blue Star, and asked to be friends with another tiny Mexican friend, Pearl. I then ate dinner (more kibble and carrots...with some shrimp and broccoli). I went outside for a brief walk. I came in and enjoyed a Busy Bone. Shortly thereafter, we shared birthday cake and toasted with champaign. After I finished the bottle of champaign, I had a green apple martini while lounging on the fuzzy throne in front of a roaring fire. We then opened my presents- the usual... Prada handbag with matching stiletto boots, and a fabulous new vintage couture collar. (They outdid themselves this year.) But the VERY best part of this grand day was that I finally.... FINALLY... was awarded 5 paws by one very lovely 10th voter. Whoever you are, 10th voter, I thank you. I have been spending the past months wondering what a bitch had to do around here to get that 5th paw! I guess one only has to turn 13! Here's to giving paw, here's to celebrating my birthday with good friends all over the country, and here's to the promise of turning 14!