Peeing Is Fun

I like to pee whenever and wherever I can. I like to pee on things and on people. But nowadays, when I pee on things and people, this big monkey goes ape. So I'm considering peeing on him when he isn't looking, and then packing up all my crap and getting out of Dodge!

I Don't Know What Is Happening

I don't know what is happening. I am in the bathroom. My mom put the gate up to keep me in the kitchen one day, and I chewed and chewed and chewed on the gate until there were splinters of wood all over the floor. Then I knocked over a box of 1,000 doggie-poop bags and spread them all over the kitchen floor. Then I ate half of the cardboard box they were in. I didn't want to eat the whole thing -- that would have been rude. So I am not sure why I am in the bathroom when my mom is at work. Also, I do not know where we are. It's a smaller place, but it gets a lot of sunlight, and we have granite countertops. I would like to pee on the ottoman right now.

Today I Ate Grass

Today I rolled around in the grass and hopped around in the grass and ran around in the grass, and then I realized that grass is green, and green can mean only one thing--GREENIES! So I went ahead and ate a bunch of grass. It tasted stringy and bitter. Then my mouth started to foam and bubble!

I'm the Boss Around Here

Today it became official. I'm the boss around here.

My mom took me out in the backyard this afternoon so that I could sniff things and eat bugs while she was doing yardwork. After about an hour, she said, "Come on, puppy, let's go inside."

But I didn't want to go inside, and I wasn't going to make it easy on her! So I ran and ran and ran, and she tried to catch me, but I am small and fast. Then she tried to lure me in with a treat. But I have more self-discipline than she realizes! Then she pretended to fall down so that I would get worried about her and run over to help, but I saw right through that!

After a half an hour, she "captured" me when I rolled onto my back and let her rub my tummy. She thinks she duped me into it! But I knew all along. By then, I wanted to go back inside. I was exhausted from the chasing game we had just played. So when she picked me up and took me inside and gave me some treats, she had no idea that she's the one who got duped!

I am a mischief maker!

What I Do When Mom's Away

My mom wanted to take me to the Golden Gate Kennel Club Dog Show on Sunday at the Cow Palace -- but she heard that dogs weren't allowed there! And do you want to know what's even stranger? She went without me!

Little does she know that when she's gone, I read her books. I liked "Pinocchio" a lot, especially how he became a real boy. I'm a real boy!

I Will Not Complain Anymore About Getting One Petite Greenie- Per Day-----On One Condition!

Dear Diary,

Over the past few weeks, my parents have continued to give me one "petite" Greenie every night, despite my protests and pleas.

My mom said that as a "toy" breed (I resent that label, by the way) I am only supposed to have one "petite" Greenie per day. But I think there's more to it than that. You see, I heard from my friend Oliver that people need to have lots of money to buy lots of Greenies.

I don't know what money is, but my parents don't seem to have very much of it.

So as a gesture of goodwill toward my parents, who don't have very much money because they are graduate students, I am willing to be content with one "petite" Greenie per day-----

On one condition!

I don't ever want to wear my sweater or my warm winter coat ever again! I don't care how cold it is outside. I'd rather be shivering and shaking, with an icicle forming on the tip of my little black nose, than wear those clothes!

Love,
The Chancellor

Greenie Grief!

I love Greenies so much. I may have mentioned this before. My aunt Hannah and uncle Peja gave me a huge bag of them for Christmas, and I figured that I would be able to have them all in one sitting, since the bag was a gift to me. I saw my name on the gift-tag! But wouldn't you know it--my parents gave me ONE Greenie from the bag and then put the rest of them out of my reach. I glared at them as if to say, "Give me my gigantic bag of Greenies! They're mine!" But they had no idea what I meant. In fact, my mom said to my dad, "Look how happy he is with his Greenie! Oh, isn't it precious?"

I tell you, all you dogs across the land. There's no need to argue--parents just don't understand!

I'm hungry!

I'm hungry because I don't like my kibble and I only want to eat Greenies, and my parents only give me one Greenie each night at 10 o'clock. I know they're good for me--easy to digest, good for fighting tartar build-up, no artificial ingredients--but I like them anyway. If I could resist them, just to spite my parents, believe me, I would. So my question, dear diary, is this:

Why can I only have one Greenie per day?

By all standards, I am a good dog. I do everything a good dog should--pee on the carpet, bark at other dogs, demand attention, chew on the furniture--without even being asked! In fact, if I may be so immodest, I surpass even the highest standards for excellence. And yet--and yet--I only get one Greenie per day.

The fact that I get the "petite" sized Greenie only compounds the injustice. My parents may not realize it, but I know about "large" and "jumbo" sized Greenies. I saw them in the pet store once.

I tell you, all you dogs across the land--there's no need to argue, parents just don't understand!