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Prehistoric Man's Development of Crude Tonal Patterns in Igneous Rock Formations (Similar to the Norse Ventigum Chants)

Hrumph.

I haven't updated this in a while. There have been a few changes. Tess moved into the building next door, and Frederick Larrabee (aka "Lucky") came to live with us.

I don't really miss Tess all that much, because she comes over fairly frequently. I don't know why. All she does is lay around all day. I mean, she's nice and everything, but would it kill her to get down off of the ottoman and play tug-of-war every once in a while?

So, now...on to "Lucky." He's such a mixed bag. It took him nearly a full week to learn about not peeing indoors. He doesn't understand that when toys are thrown down the hallway, we have to bring them back in order to have them thrown again. And he hasn't mastered the art of getting into a step-in harness. So, he's somewhat problematic, that way.

On the other hand, he's a pug. Which is awesome. He's almost as cute as I am, and well, he's a pug. Say no more. It has long been my goal to stage a revolution in the apartment, so having another pug will really help with that. I mean, Tess wasn't going to stir up any trouble, that's for sure.

So, here is my pugifesto. Post-revolution:

Treats will no longer be rationed.

All pugs will be permitted to bring as much mulch inside from the planters on the terrace as we chose. We will chew on the mulch and break it up into little pieces, and Tom (the human) will jump for joy with each new piece of mulch that we shred in the living room.

Instead of weight management Wellness brand food, all pugs will be permitted to eat chicken and popcorn for each meal.

Before any beer bottles, tuna fish cans, or jars of mayonnaise are recycled, each pug must have an opportunity to lick the recycleables thoroughly.

Instead of our customary four walks per day, we will be permitted to walk ourselves. We will go where we choose, when we choose. And if you need us for something, we will probably be at the park. Or maybe at the stables where we'll be barking at the horses.

Non-pug dogs who live on the block may not approach us without permission with the following exceptions: Buddy the Pitbull, Olivia the Boston Terrier, Loretta the Yorkie, and Bubbles the Miniature Schnauzer. All other dogs must present a written request for dog-walk interaction with us, and if we refuse your request, you must have your walks at times of the day when you know we won't be outside (i.e. "naptime.")

Instead of bringing bottles of wine for Tom, human visitors are instructed to bring roast chicken breasts smothered in peanut butter and wrapped in raw bacon. No exceptions.

There are other rules, too, but I haven't decided what they'll be. Now, if we can just get Lucky to settle down a bit so that we can enact my master plan...

My busy weekend.

This was a very exciting weekend. Auntie Sip came to visit. She is great. She's a veterinarian, and it turns out that she's the reason that I came to live here. See, when Tom decided that he was going to get a dog, he called his friend Sip and asked a lot of questions. And she told him that if he was going to get a dog, he should get a PUG or a mixed breed dog. So, he found me and brought me home. In part because I'm really awesome, but also because I'm a PUG.

Then, she looked at me and checked me out and said that I had a nice waist and that she was glad that I wasn't fat like every other pug. She scratched me and said nice things to me and I think that Tess even liked her too. Which is really saying something, because Tess is stuck up as all hell.

So, you can probably imagine that I'm pretty fond of Auntie Sip. I made sure she woke up bright and early every morning she was here.

Then, on Sunday, it was really beautiful, so I got to go on a subway ride to my favorite dog park in Manhattan. Oh, joy! On the way there, I got a new harness that doesn't itch as much, and there was another PUG at the store, and a couple of Italian Greyhounds, and a chihuahua that was kind of scared of me. I hung out with the PUG.

Then, Uncle Kevin was at the dog park! And another PUG. And a Shar Pei that chased me around.

But best of all, there were these really old people walking around near the dog park. They all had these sticks that they were holding. Tom called them "canes." And they were everywhere! I love sticks. I love to run and chase them and catch them and chew on them. And those old people were moving so slowly, that I figured, 'Hey! Perfect!"

For some reason, Tom got really upset when I tried to run up to the old people and pull their canes away from them. It really cheeses me off the way he's hell-bent on ruining my fun. If those people didn't want to play, they shouldn't go outside with really big sticks.

Everyone knows that sticks are for playing with. Everybody knows that.

I don't think that's very funny.

Just yesterday, I heard my owner describing me over the phone. He was making a big point of mentioning how I'm much shorter than Tess the Retriever. And then he said, "Yeah. They're kinda like Dudley Moore and Susan Anton."

What a jerk.