The wetting

The people I live with had a wetting in August. Everybody was dressed up very nicely but nobody got wet. I got to go and wear a bow tie. Isabelle wore purls. I liked it a lot. Isabelle and I stood to the side of where my mom and my dad were standing with some lady who was asking them all these questions. Do they take this and do they take that. I wagged at them to let them know that if she asked them to take some hamburger or some steak they should. Isabelle started barking and a friend of my dad's gave us cookies to shut her up. Then we had to go up to my mom and dad and they untied these bows we had around our necks with little pieces of metal on them, like the tags that Izzy and I wear only hollow. My mom and dad put them on their fingers. I didn't really understand what that was about. I thought they should have given each other and us dog toys wrapped with ribbon! The next day they opened a bunch of presents and I was certain that each one was for me. I just knew it! It was really exciting but it was mostly boring stuff. Lots of bowls for me to have food up to 5 times a day. Like right now. Candles for me to chew on. And there was a package of chew treats for me and Izzy!

My mom and dad went to other wetting in October. It was raining out and everybody got wet at that one. My mom said it was very religious. She said the people running the wetting kept talking about the spare ribs of the hole-y ghost. I wish Izzy and I got to go to that! If this ghost has spare ribs, we could be best friends. I wonder if the ghost is hole-y because some dog took a bite out of him because he smelled like a spare rib? Maybe I'll meet the spare rib ghost on Holloween.

Big Strong Man

Nobody told me to do this, but I'm 3 so I took it on myself. I now sleep on the couch in the living room for the first shift of the night after everybody goes to bed. I curl myself up with my snout facing the back corner of the couch and I leave my backside all exposed. My mom says that's probably not how my ancestors used to sleep at night but I figure she's talking about my dog daddy's dad who was really fat and used to just plop down in place for a snooze. I don't do that.

So I sleep like that until I hear some people in the hallway--laughing and yelling--and I bark really loud like this, "Whoowhoowhoooo!!!!!" to let the bad people in the hallway know there is a BIG annoyed dog in da house and to let everyone in my apartment know in case these people in the hallway are planning to come in and take my toys, bones and most of all, my tennis balls. Cause you know EVERYONE wants my tennis balls. My mom makes this little shriek in her sleep--it's a good thing I woke her up because she was sleeping so soundly and she stumbles out and tells me it's ok, those are the neighbors who were out late partying, not intruders. But what does she know? Then we all go back to sleep until I sound the alarm two hours later. I am SO proud of myself.

Big Stick Redux

I found another big stick last night. I had to work with it for a while to find the best place to grip it so that it didn't spin me around when I picked it up. My mom said it was a log. I was very proud of my stick. I carried it all the way home. I had to stop to rest my mouth. I looked around to see if anyone was admiring me and my big stick. It was snowing. My mom said she would carry the stick for me, but I didn't trust her to do it right. I took it from her and carried it up 5 flights of stairs. Then I wanted to bring it inside and put in on the persian rug to tear it up in little shredded bits and conquer that big bad stick but my mom made me leave it outside. I sulked for a while until she gave me some salad with ginger dressing. My mom told me I am spoiled but I sniffed myself and I smell just right--all Omar and very fresh.

My Christmas Wish List

Dear Santa Claws,

This is Omar. Hi, how you doing? I'm wagging my tail so much my whole body is wagging. It looks like I'm doing a salsa. Yum, salsa. Salsa with chips and guacamole. Ok...what was I doing?

Oh, Santa Paws! This is what I want for Christmas: knuckle bones, 17, basted. A new big car for my mommy with a lot of cushy back seats for me. A little puppy brother. A new sweater. Less salt on the sidewalks during the winter. More chicken bones on the sidewalk all the time. A king sized bed. A rope bone. A back yard. New tennis balls. Stuffed animals to rip to shreds in seconds. Peas on earth, but especially in my kitchen. On the floor please, because I can't reach the counters so well. I'm working on it, though.

Ok, Santa Claws, what do you want for Christmas? How about if I pin you down by sitting on your kidneys and kiss you all over your face until your glasses get all smeared? No one can resist that.

Love, wags,

Omar

D-bait

Last night I watched what they called a D-bait on TV with some friends. Everybody started laughing and then some of my friends, including my girlfriend Angela and her husband starting yelling. It made me very nervous. I pulled my ears way back. I looked at the TV to see what all the fuss was about. All I saw was Alfred E. Newman from Mad Magazine. Why were people yelling about him? There were no bad dogs anywhere in sight. I chewed my tennis ball to try and distract myself. Tennis ball, chew, focus, tennis ball, chew, focus, tennis ball, chew, focus. More yelling. I got up and kissed Marshall's face to see if that would make him feel better and for dog's sake, to stop yelling! It didn't work. I don't like d-baits. Tennis ball, chew, focus....

Tennis Balls

Did I already do an entry like this one? I can't remember. Right now, I have 4 tennis balls scattered all over the carpet. Tennis balls with holes in their middle and random pieces of tennis ball lying beside those. I even had a big tennis ball once-- it took me 2 days to destroy it. I found out that tennis balls still work with holes in them. You can still crunch down on them and get that satisfying tennis ball chomping sensation. I've studied this.

I've also studied people. When they talk to me, I wag my tail encouragingly.

Mini Me

I have a mini me. He looks just like me but he is much smaller. Except his ears stand up straight. And also, he is French and I'm American. I think that means he eats French Fries while I eat Freedom Fries. Actually I eat any kind of fries. The other day I found a hostess twinkie!

But...what was I talking about. Oh! Mini me. His name is Spike and I like to wrestle with him. I gently lean my upper body down to pin him but not too much because I don't want to squash him.

Is it dinner time yet?

big sticks

I love big sticks that are like tree trunks. I like to strip the bark off. Those sticks make me mad!! I bark and whine at them. I try and pull tree roots out from the water. They're stuck there! That really makes me mad. I know if I just keep pulling I can get those roots out. I never give up. Never, never, give-- what's that? A cookie?? Oh yes, I'd LOVE a cookie. Nobody loves cookies more that me. Cookie, cookie, cookie...here let me wag my whole body just to show you how enthusiastic I am about it. It looks like I'm doing a merengue. A cookie merengue! Thank you thank you for the cookie. Is there another? Oh, and who's that? I spy with my little eyes another dog in the park. I just have to go say hello, I'll be right back---