Dogster

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Dog Days

Update.

I was so sick for Christmas. Mom and Dad had to take me to the vet in the middle of the night and I felt so bad I didn't even have it in me to fuss about having a thermometer stuck up my butt. It turned out I had Parvo and I hate all the wild dogs in the neighborhood now who walk in and out of MY yard like it's their own! Mom and Dad were both really upset and quiet and I think Mom was crying a little bit, but I knew it was okay. I'm glad they made me start eating and drinking again because MAN. I was so sick I forgot how great FOOD is! Now that I've been home for more than a week I can't stop eating. I was even trying to eat Mom's shirt today, but then she got irritated and tossed me off her lap. GRRRR. I liked it better when I was sick and she let me lay on her all day!

I got some great stuff for Christmas, too. My new teddy bear looks like he's been at war and that squeaky train is HISTORY. GRRRRRRRRR! WOOFWOOFWOOF! I just grab them in my JAWS OF DOOM and shake my head and growl like this, real menacing-like: GRRRRRRRRWWWWWLLLLL! GRRRRRRRR! ARF! No, wait, I don't actually make those "arf" sounds. Those are lame.

We moved into a new house, right? That's why I have to protect my Mom and Dad and my house and my yard. One time a guy came over and knocked on the door and was talking to Mom, and I barked so good and scared him so much he just dropped what he was carrying and let us have it! It was PIZZA! See, being a vicious attack dog totally pays off sometimes!

Three really, really dumb dogs live next door. They sit outside all day barking their fool heads off for no reason at all. No one wants to go into their smelly yard anyway, but they just sit there jumping around and yelling like there are intruders everywhere. Stupid dogs. I like to just sit and stare at them. It makes them feel stupid. But it doesn't shut them up!

If there's one thing I've learned, it's that being loud and vicious is only good sometimes. Because when you're tied to a rope in your backyard and no one is anywhere near you or your people or your house, you just look like an idiot for carrying on like that.

I hate my name.

It's sure been a long time since I've written. I've been busy, though, you know, with all the shoe-eating and people-licking and tail-chasing I have to do every day. It's a tough life!

Last night I started licking the carpet. For some reason Mom thought that was hilarious and said she should have named me Butch. I don't know why she thought it was so funny--the carpet just tastes so good!--but I wish my name WERE Butch, instead of Wookie. Wookie's a silly name for a VICIOUS ATTACK DOG! Everybody would quit laughing at me if my name were Butch instead, I just know it.

My friend, my enemy, my chew toy.

Mom's been complaining about how I keep chewing on her toes. Dad lets me chew on his all the time , so I don't know what her problem is, but she went out and bought me some new chew toys. She showed me the nubbly orange ball first, and it jingled and jangled and sat there in all its bright orange arrogance for a couple of minutes while I pawed at it, sniffed around it, nudged it with my snout, and tried to determine if it was friend or enemy.

The first couple of times, it rolled away from me and I backed away--you really can't trust anything these days. You can't be too careful, right? But when it never tried to attack me, I finally went after it. I tried to bite it, and every time I got to it, it rolled away again! I couldn't fit it into my mouht! I started stalking it, and pouncing on it, only to have to chase it down when it rolled away again. It was SO FRUSTRATING! What IS this toy that it can keep escaping my JAWS OF DEATH this way? Mom laughed at me (again! She has no respect for my VICIOUS ATTACK DOG skills!) and promised that someday I would be able to beat it into submission. I hope so. In the meantime, it just rolls around the floor, taunting me.