Dogster

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My Life As A Dog

House rules? What nerve!

Dear Diary,
Today Antony left a set of house rules for me. It was a nice effort on his part, but if he thinks it will make any difference in my daily routine, that's another matter.
-Left at my dish-

Dear Olive: New rules

1. When I say move, it means go someplace else. It does not mean switch positions.
2. The bowls on the kitchen floor are yours and contain your food. All other dishes are mine and contain my food. (Please note: placing a nose-print in the middle of my dinner does not stake your claim on it, nor do I find it aesthetically pleasing in any way.)
3. I cannot buy anything bigger than a queen size bed. Locate your inner beast and remember that sleeping animals can actually curl up in a ball, so it is not necessary to sleep perpendicular to me, stretched out to the fullest extent possible.
4. For the last time, humans like to use the bathroom alone. (Trust me, I have been using the bathroom for years...I can handle it alone.)
5. The proper order is: lick my face, then go lick yourself. I cannot stress this enough.

To pacify you I have posted the following message on my front door:

Rules for Non-Pet Owners Who Visit and Complain About my dog:

1. She lives here; you don't.
2. If you don't want her hair on your clothes, stay off the furniture.
3. I like my dog better than I like most people.
4. To you it's an animal. To me, it's an adopted child who's hairy, walks on all fours and shits on your lawn.
5. Dogs are better than kids. They eat less, are easier to train, usually come when called, don't ask for money, never drive your car, don't hang out with losers, and don't smoke.

What a kidder.

Those Pesky People Running For President

Dear Diary,
I watched the debates with Antony yesterday. I don't know anything about the stuff that they were talking about, and I don't think that I am alone on this.
The tall guy would say something, then the frustrated guy would say something. If I knew how to work the clicker I would have put it on Animal Precinct or something. Who cares about all the president stuff anyway. He had better give me a pig ear or something if he expects me to sit through another one of those debates again.

Tiles are good.

Dear Diary,
Why didn't I find this out earlier? The bathroom floor is my new favorite place. Okay, everyone...new rule. This is my space. My bathroom. Bring my food dish and water bowls..put them over...hmm..there. A few throw pillows and I'm done. From now on, I'm phoning it in.