I know. You refuse to admit it because it would damage your reputation if you did. But you’ve missed me, haven’t you? I’ve missed you, too, although I’ve honestly missed your adulation more.
Don’t blame me for my absence on this blog. It’s human mom’s fault. She’s been too busy crafting elaborate essays that leave no time for me to make my own artistic contributions to this website. It’s a travesty.
But I’ve finally commandeered the site and boy, do I have a lot to catch you up on since my last post more than six months ago.
I am now almost 19 months old. But I remain a puppy in almost all respects. You see, Peter Pan is my idol and I refuse to grow up. While my house is not nearly as enticing as Neverland, I compensate for its shortfalls with my startling capacity for imagination. My crate is my Versailles. My small food bowl is my smorgasbord. The couch pillows are my larger-than-life chew toys. My canine friends are my knights in shining armor and ladies-in-waiting. The occasional ladybug I find on the floor is my fairy godmother. My human parents and sisters are my court jesters because they are ridiculous yet simultaneously endearing.
Lest you harbored any doubts about my energy level declining with age, I shall allay your concerns. In an effort to expand my exposure to other dogs and tire me out so I would be less inclined to misbehave, my human parents introduced me to the dog park a few months ago. It took a few outings for me to adjust to the scene. I was hazed by the regular crowd and it was little too much for my sensitive soul. Big and scary dogs, small and yappy dogs – I thought I had been sent to canine prison.
But now you can count me among the happy inmates. I love the dog park. I love my friends. Aspen, Olivia, Dash, Arlo, Barney, Kayla, Dutch, Humphrey, Rosie…they’re my peeps.
The Joys of a Human Bed
In what was without a doubt one of my human mom’s more passive-aggressive moves, she removed my cozy crate mat permanently after I started to destroy it a few months ago. I’ve been sleeping directly on the hard tray ever since. It’s insulting. I’d like her to try it sometime – she wouldn’t last one minute on that cold plastic.
As a result, I’ve been making the rounds of the house to find the softest and most luxurious place to rest my weary bones after a morning at the park. My explorations led me to discover my human parents’ bed. So blissful, so warm, so messy, so lived-in!
Sadly, they’ve not succumbed to the temptation of allowing me to spend the night on their matrimonial mattress. I’ve whined, I’ve obstinately refused to leave the bed, I’ve used my big saucer puppy eyes to seduce them into letting me stay, all to no avail. Truth be told, it’s a lost cause. I can’t imagine human dad ever giving in. He’s grown to love me but he doesn’t love me that much. On the other hand, human mom can’t resist it when I join her upstairs for a cuddle before my bedtime. If human dad really loves human mom and wants to prove his undying love to her, maybe all hope is not lost. I will continue my patient seduction. I am nothing if not determined.
The Ecstasy of Snow!
I can’t repeat it enough. I LOVE the snow. Even when it’s no longer white, but stained pee yellow and asphalt black, it’s a wonder of nature. I’m a simple doodle, really. I don’t require much. But if you give me a backyard covered in snow, whether heavy and wet or light and fluffy, I will bury my face in it, I will jump in it, I will eat it, I will lick it, I will kiss it, I will slide on it and I will roll in it. Snow transports me to another dimension – it’s nirvana. It’s my catnip.
I am the only one in the family who appreciates the white stuff. My humans are all miserable in this weather. I suppose I should give credit where credit is due, however. Human mom has taken me to the dog park almost every day, no matter how cold it’s been. She stands there shivering and losing feeling in her fingers and toes, just for me. If that’s not devotion, I don’t know what is.
Enough with the sentimentality. If I don’t wrap this up soon, hell will have to freeze over (actually, not a great cliché since that’s essentially what’s happened where we live) before human mom allows me to contribute to her blog again. I certainly wouldn’t want that to happen. Au revoir until next time, my friends, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.