News of the Weary

To all her pup pals . . .

Jima died at approximately noon today.

I find it impossible to write anymore than that right now.

We are all heartbroken.

Love to all,
The HBIC

Don't hang the crepe just yet.

I'm alive though admittedly I've not been feeling so well. I'm lathargic, and I sleep much of my days away. Even when the new baby is here yapping her little brown arfing head off I am still able to sleep.

Violet, the new addition to the fam came miraculously forth (and to me, seemingly out of noarfingwhere. Is this what they mean by virgin birth?) just around the time of the dreaded "holiday", Xmas. (There are just some bipeds who require their daily/weekly/monthly/holiday(ly?) dose of delusion. Why should I care? They're all pretty stupid, I've discovered. Me? I'm a Dog of Science as in "Gimme the Dogdamned antibiotics, I have an arfing kidney infection. If you're a good little biped and utilize your Dog given right to scientific explanation for why I'm pissing all over your kitchen floor, persian rugs, your new uggs, etc. and give me the drugs Dog intended, you shall be saved.)

I digress.

Violet is 12 weeks old now, has had the arfing cast removed. Yes. The cast has been cast off. (She broke her arfing toe xmas morning and ruined a perfectly absurd holiday. I knew from the beginning this little bitch was gonna be some trouble). She now can run around the house faster than the hbic can say "NO!"

The little brown dog who could, is with us every day as the hbic is working from home. Aidan comes along with her, and is finally figuring out that the brownbrat is here to stay. Aidan hasn't a maternal bone in her body, but she seems to dig the playing with pup thing, so hey, it's all good.

The hbic is doing a shoot here at home today. I can't wait to see how she manages to pull three outfit changes off with Viole(n)t a.k.a. Spawn running around after the client. I keep trying to advise the hbic that the little bitch needs to be in the crate, but the infernal racket sends the hbic straight over the edge. Hence, the behavior is being rewarded, and she is allowed to run rampant. Until such time as she bites the hbic on the tender inner thigh and garners a good . . . .GIGGLE? Oh no! She did NOT just giggle.

I gotta go. SomeDogdamnedbody has to take charge of the charge.

ALL HAIL SEVA! QUEEN OF THE SIGHT HOUNDS!

How my heart aches at the thought of your departure from our world.

Oh my beautiful friend, take with you these final thoughts from your favorite bitch with the devil-may-care attitude:

Put on those Dior shades, wrap your finest silk around your lovely head, jump in the convertible Jag (which I have arranged to illicitly procure from Dexter's biped), arrive at your next destination in style.

Tell your driver to roll up slowly that everyone there might take in your beauty, and admire your panache, your savoire faire, your elan. Extend your dainty, well- pawdicured paw only to the head bitch in charge, who will hopefully be a quadruped (Dog knows we've had enough of these bipeds on this planet) whom you may plot to remove from office with your wiley manipulations and profound powers of pheminine persuasion (I love alliterations, don't you, dear Seva?).

Prepare for a take over, dear Seva!

When the job is neatly done, I expect a visit in my dreams, dear Seva. Whisper sweetly that phrase I favor so well. Let me hear you tell one and all "I'm Seva! Bow before me! Peel me a grape! Let the bells peal my arrival, the horns herald a new era!. I am SEVA and I'm just that kind of B.I.T.C.H."

HomeDogs of DETH

I've missed you all too.

I'm not feeling too well today, so, this will be a short blog. I was sick all night . . . yah, the hbic is concerned, and hasn't let me out of her sight all arfin' day. Florence Nightingale had nothing on her. I'm tellin' 'ya right now, if she comes near my asset with that liquid silver torture device once more today, I will bite that liberal, tree-hugger right out of her hippiedominatrix pleather boyshorts.

So sorry I was unable to help our comrade, Agent Timmy, and even more sorry I had to keep it on the low making you all feel abandoned by my wit, wisdom and bitchitude.

Rest assured fellow agents of DETH, you've not heard the last of me. I have no plan to make my final exit just yet. Besides, I'm reaching my prime as PHOTOGDOG EXTRAORDINAIRE!

Seva, you sexy bitch, Grace Kelly had nothin' on you! Rock that tiara and those Dior shades, girl.

Dexter, you know you're the silkiest black studmuffin around. Hang on to that brass sack of yours. I'm not outta the game yet.

I remain your faithful Titular Head ( TitHead if you'd like),

Jima, the Beautiful Blog Dog

Another fish tale.

Some of you may recall my concerns regarding the hbic and the pond. Well, those concerns were unfounded. Not only did she not kill herself whilst managing the pond, she managed to keep those slippery devils as well. Though she did forget to bring them to the biology lab where there were aquariums awaiting them to winter in . . .thus making it necessary for them to survive in the HUGE block of ice which is,once again, the lily clad pond of summer.

There is, however, a tragic tale to tell. Well, tragic for Moby the Dick, at any rate. Several weeks ago, Moby the Dick, the largest of all five fish, committed suicide. Apparently he took no notice of the fact that he'd grown quite large and beached (rocked, really) himself in the shallows of the pond where he was known to have a good scratch against the stones on the bottom.

Suicide, the hbic called it . . . but I have my own suspicions.

Moby the Dick, aptly named I must say, was a facist little tyrant lording it over the rest of the school. I watched him chase them into the shadows, keeping them locked in a state of constant wariness and fear. I swear I heard him say "terrorism" more times than I can count on all four paws (not unlike the current administration) in his attempt to control the school. It is my opinion, particularly after having overheard the gossip from the pond dwellers, that they simply drove him to his death.

Sure, in a phony show of frantic spinning, they made it appear they were distraught. But in true three second attention span form, they quickly came out from the shadows to play in the light, awaiting their next meal with mouths wide open.

The bloggings will continue until morale improves

'Plenty to arf about, no energy to blog today. Just wanted to say that I'm back, and will write more when I'm less fatigued.

'Goin' out into the sun to lounge with the HBIC. We both need some rest today. This last year has been a real trial for my biped, therefore it is my duty to stand guard whilst she snoozes by the pool today.

Peace, my brothers and sisters. It's good to be back.

Lick 'ya later,
Jee