“She’s a little small for a Golden, ain’t she,” her neighbor queries.
She looks down at the puppy chewing on a baseboard. “Thank God for small packages,” she replies.
August 18, 2021
Yesterday, I was a brat pretty much all day! Mom took me on about 50 walks, but every time she picked up a stick, I would go into attack mode and try to grab it from her hands. Every single time! You would think Mom would learn not to pick up sticks.
I also spent much of the day trying to sharpen my teeth on Violet. Finally, while Mom and her friends were eating dinner, I bit Violet on the ear, and she decided to ring my bell by putting her giant mouth around my scrawny little neck. You would have thought I was a piglet going to slaughter the way I screamed. Mom was sure I’d been disemboweled, but other than my wounded pride; I was OK. She put me in the crate to recover, and I was so stressed I went right to sleep.
Later, when I woke, I snuck upstairs and peed in the hallway. Mom said after eating, sleeping, and getting the shit scared out of me; it was her fault for not taking me out. Later I kissed Violet to make up and tried to steal her ball (AGAIN)!
No one can accuse me of being a one-trial learner!
August 23, 2021
Mom says with all the puppy gates and barriers; our house is starting to look like Fort Knox, except without all the money. Whatever spare cash she once had has been transferred to Jeff Bezos via the Amazon Pet Supplies Department.
According to Mom, I weigh 256 ounces, and if I were gold bullion, I would be worth almost $46,000. I should surpass that amount by the end of the year at the rate she is spending on me. Maybe that’s why they call me a Golden Retriever.
Mom says I am worth every cent!
August 30, 2021
Mom’s horoscope this weekend said, “Psychic communication with wild creatures will be especially lucid.” Mom asked me if I knew any wild creatures in our household who might need influencing.
She was nervous because we heard loud pops in the distance on Saturday during my 1:00 am pee break. Mom figured some of our local citizens were trying to shoot each other, and we better get the hell in the house. I’ve never seen an old lady move so fast.
So last night, when she put me in my new crate, she whispered, “You are getting sleepy. You are getting sleepy.” She also played whale sounds and dabbed lavender oil on my pads.
And guess what? I slept through the whole night and didn’t have to go out to pee.
Maybe the fact that Mom cut my water off at 7:00 pm helped a little. Or perhaps she’s just good at psychic communication with wild creatures.
September 5, 2021
Mom said I should be a professional wrestler when I grow up. I could be like the Fabulous Moolah, who wore gold lamé tights and was the most famous female wrestler in history. Moolah got to do many fun things, including feuding with Cyndi Lauper, acting as a valet for the Elephant Boy, training midget professional wrestlers, and having a guitar smashed on her head. These all sound like great career aspirations.
I already use some of Moolah’s maneuvers, such as hair-grabbing, biting, jumping, and shin-breaking. I will also use my signature moves, including Stink Face, Earlobe Takedown, and the Karmakaze Krush. The audience will love it!
Wrestlers are either good guys or villains. I have no doubt which one I will choose.
September 13, 2021
Mom says it was like the ’70s except for no bell bottoms or black lights. Violet, Theodora, and I sat on the floor, sharing a foot-long doobie. When it was my turn, I put the end in my mouth and inhaled! I felt like I had never felt; music sounded better, and I was suddenly hungry. Careful not to bogart, I passed the stick to Violet. When she finished her turn, I noticed her eyes were glazed, and she was smiling.
By the time the spliff reached Theodora, it was only a few inches long, and the ends were soggy, but Theo didn’t seem to mind. When I told her she could keep the rest, she finally decided I wasn’t so bad.
Mom says I’m lucky Bully Sticks are legal in Alabama because they are FAR OUT, man!
October 6, 2021
It rained almost all day yesterday. Mom took me out between showers, but I didn’t get enough exercise. When it was about to get dark, she put Violet and me out for one last wrestle. It started pouring, and Violet came in, but I still had a critical stick to chew.
I only come WHEN I DAMN WELL PLEASE, so Mom ran inside for some bribes. While she was screwing around, I discovered fresh mud in the garden and dug a two-foot ditch to prepare for fall bulb planting.
When Mom saw, she jerked my 31-pound mud-covered body up in the air and threw me in the downstairs bathtub. I am now somewhat clean. Mom is now mostly dirty.
She says I’m a demon dog, and it will be a cold day in hell before she lets me in the backyard again without my leash. Right now, I’m in jail feeling sad, while mom is in the shower feeling sad because she doesn’t think it will ever stop raining.
October 16, 2021
“You need to quit being such an asshole, Karma,” Mom called out as she locked me in the crate. Just because I accidentally clothes-lined her is no reason to be upset. The blood on her jeans is barely noticeable, and her hand isn’t more swollen than when she was stung by the yellow jacket or when I sprained her ring finger pulling too hard on the leash.
I mean, it was kind of her fault. She had me run Zoomies to use up energy, and she stopped to check the timer on her landscape lighting. I ran over to help, and she walked right in front of me. Talk about rude!
And now, she’s putting me back in my crate. Mom’s brother Mark said my name should be Drama, but I think Mom’s the drama queen, not me.
October 24, 2021
My trainer said I should have a drag line attached to my collar whenever I’m not in my crate. She said it should be the Hand of God, which will reach out and poke me every time I’m naughty.
The problem is that God always needs to pay attention, and sometimes God gets busy reading the paper or playing with her phone. This morning we were in the front yard, and God wasn’t paying close attention, so I grabbed a freshly planted pansy and tried to break its little neck. God had to run across the yard in her bare feet to save the pansy from a horrible death.
Another problem is God keeps letting my drag line tangle around furniture, shrubs, and Violet’s and my necks. One would think a supreme being should be able to develop a tangle-free leash. Of course, God still hasn’t perfected a tangle-free hose, so there’s that.
The third issue is that God’s Hand is yummy, and I love to chew on it. Mom keeps telling me to stop gnawing on God’s Hand, but I’m only a puppy and sometimes forget all the rules. Mom says she will talk to the trainer at our next class and learn how God can become a better trainer.
November 9, 2021
The Mole People from New York City have moved under Mom’s front yard. Usually, they live in 800 miles of tunnels - steam tunnels, underground cellars, subway tunnels, railway tunnels, bunkers, lost passageways, and abandoned tubes. Between 2,000 to 5,000 people live there. I guess it’s cold in NYC right now, so they’ve tunneled south.
Mom says she doesn’t have moles, but I can smell them. To protect her, I’ve devised a strategy of tearing up all the grass by its roots. That way, the Mole People won’t have cover when they try to sneak up on our porch.
Many scary things are in the world, including flapping flags, garbage disposals with loud clanking teeth, and Danger Pigs lurking by the fireplace. It’s good that Mom has me around, or she wouldn’t survive for two seconds.
November 20, 2021
I look at Mom and sneer. When she tries to pull me into the house using my drag line, I throw my body on the ground and don’t move. I dare her to haul my poor limp carcass up the stairs.
I know she won’t because someone will report her to the ASPCA, and she’ll get sent to Julia Tutwiler Prison in Wetumpka. Mom wouldn’t like it because the women have to wear ugly white shirts and pants that say AL Dept of Corrections on the back. All the prisoners there are cranky because they sleep together in one big room on hard beds.
Mom says she’s too old for that crap, so if I want to spend the night lying outside in the 30-degree weather, she might just let me.
November 22, 2021
President Calvin Coolidge and his wife Grace used to own a pet raccoon named Rebecca. Vinnie Joyce gave the raccoon to the president for his Thanksgiving dinner, but instead, he adopted her and gave her a collar for Christmas. Rebecca enjoyed walks on the lawn, attended the White House’s annual Easter egg roll, and even accompanied the first family on vacation to the Black Hills of South Dakota.
Unfortunately, Rebecca was not always a good raccoon. She was caught rummaging around local garbage cans multiple times and supposedly bit the president on his wrist, so she was sent to the zoo for a day-long exile.
Mom says in many ways; I remind her of a raccoon. Yesterday, I chewed up a table leg and peed in the house today. Right now, I’m scratching like a demon and howling to get out of my crate, and Mom is wondering if I would look better as a coat or the main course for Thanksgiving.
I know she is just kidding, isn’t she?
— opelikakat
She looks down at the puppy chewing on a baseboard. “Thank God for small packages,” she replies.
August 18, 2021
Yesterday, I was a brat pretty much all day! Mom took me on about 50 walks, but every time she picked up a stick, I would go into attack mode and try to grab it from her hands. Every single time! You would think Mom would learn not to pick up sticks.
I also spent much of the day trying to sharpen my teeth on Violet. Finally, while Mom and her friends were eating dinner, I bit Violet on the ear, and she decided to ring my bell by putting her giant mouth around my scrawny little neck. You would have thought I was a piglet going to slaughter the way I screamed. Mom was sure I’d been disemboweled, but other than my wounded pride; I was OK. She put me in the crate to recover, and I was so stressed I went right to sleep.
Later, when I woke, I snuck upstairs and peed in the hallway. Mom said after eating, sleeping, and getting the shit scared out of me; it was her fault for not taking me out. Later I kissed Violet to make up and tried to steal her ball (AGAIN)!
No one can accuse me of being a one-trial learner!
August 23, 2021
Mom says with all the puppy gates and barriers; our house is starting to look like Fort Knox, except without all the money. Whatever spare cash she once had has been transferred to Jeff Bezos via the Amazon Pet Supplies Department.
According to Mom, I weigh 256 ounces, and if I were gold bullion, I would be worth almost $46,000. I should surpass that amount by the end of the year at the rate she is spending on me. Maybe that’s why they call me a Golden Retriever.
Mom says I am worth every cent!
August 30, 2021
Mom’s horoscope this weekend said, “Psychic communication with wild creatures will be especially lucid.” Mom asked me if I knew any wild creatures in our household who might need influencing.
She was nervous because we heard loud pops in the distance on Saturday during my 1:00 am pee break. Mom figured some of our local citizens were trying to shoot each other, and we better get the hell in the house. I’ve never seen an old lady move so fast.
So last night, when she put me in my new crate, she whispered, “You are getting sleepy. You are getting sleepy.” She also played whale sounds and dabbed lavender oil on my pads.
And guess what? I slept through the whole night and didn’t have to go out to pee.
Maybe the fact that Mom cut my water off at 7:00 pm helped a little. Or perhaps she’s just good at psychic communication with wild creatures.
September 5, 2021
Mom said I should be a professional wrestler when I grow up. I could be like the Fabulous Moolah, who wore gold lamé tights and was the most famous female wrestler in history. Moolah got to do many fun things, including feuding with Cyndi Lauper, acting as a valet for the Elephant Boy, training midget professional wrestlers, and having a guitar smashed on her head. These all sound like great career aspirations.
I already use some of Moolah’s maneuvers, such as hair-grabbing, biting, jumping, and shin-breaking. I will also use my signature moves, including Stink Face, Earlobe Takedown, and the Karmakaze Krush. The audience will love it!
Wrestlers are either good guys or villains. I have no doubt which one I will choose.
September 13, 2021
Mom says it was like the ’70s except for no bell bottoms or black lights. Violet, Theodora, and I sat on the floor, sharing a foot-long doobie. When it was my turn, I put the end in my mouth and inhaled! I felt like I had never felt; music sounded better, and I was suddenly hungry. Careful not to bogart, I passed the stick to Violet. When she finished her turn, I noticed her eyes were glazed, and she was smiling.
By the time the spliff reached Theodora, it was only a few inches long, and the ends were soggy, but Theo didn’t seem to mind. When I told her she could keep the rest, she finally decided I wasn’t so bad.
Mom says I’m lucky Bully Sticks are legal in Alabama because they are FAR OUT, man!
October 6, 2021
It rained almost all day yesterday. Mom took me out between showers, but I didn’t get enough exercise. When it was about to get dark, she put Violet and me out for one last wrestle. It started pouring, and Violet came in, but I still had a critical stick to chew.
I only come WHEN I DAMN WELL PLEASE, so Mom ran inside for some bribes. While she was screwing around, I discovered fresh mud in the garden and dug a two-foot ditch to prepare for fall bulb planting.
When Mom saw, she jerked my 31-pound mud-covered body up in the air and threw me in the downstairs bathtub. I am now somewhat clean. Mom is now mostly dirty.
She says I’m a demon dog, and it will be a cold day in hell before she lets me in the backyard again without my leash. Right now, I’m in jail feeling sad, while mom is in the shower feeling sad because she doesn’t think it will ever stop raining.
October 16, 2021
“You need to quit being such an asshole, Karma,” Mom called out as she locked me in the crate. Just because I accidentally clothes-lined her is no reason to be upset. The blood on her jeans is barely noticeable, and her hand isn’t more swollen than when she was stung by the yellow jacket or when I sprained her ring finger pulling too hard on the leash.
I mean, it was kind of her fault. She had me run Zoomies to use up energy, and she stopped to check the timer on her landscape lighting. I ran over to help, and she walked right in front of me. Talk about rude!
And now, she’s putting me back in my crate. Mom’s brother Mark said my name should be Drama, but I think Mom’s the drama queen, not me.
October 24, 2021
My trainer said I should have a drag line attached to my collar whenever I’m not in my crate. She said it should be the Hand of God, which will reach out and poke me every time I’m naughty.
The problem is that God always needs to pay attention, and sometimes God gets busy reading the paper or playing with her phone. This morning we were in the front yard, and God wasn’t paying close attention, so I grabbed a freshly planted pansy and tried to break its little neck. God had to run across the yard in her bare feet to save the pansy from a horrible death.
Another problem is God keeps letting my drag line tangle around furniture, shrubs, and Violet’s and my necks. One would think a supreme being should be able to develop a tangle-free leash. Of course, God still hasn’t perfected a tangle-free hose, so there’s that.
The third issue is that God’s Hand is yummy, and I love to chew on it. Mom keeps telling me to stop gnawing on God’s Hand, but I’m only a puppy and sometimes forget all the rules. Mom says she will talk to the trainer at our next class and learn how God can become a better trainer.
November 9, 2021
The Mole People from New York City have moved under Mom’s front yard. Usually, they live in 800 miles of tunnels - steam tunnels, underground cellars, subway tunnels, railway tunnels, bunkers, lost passageways, and abandoned tubes. Between 2,000 to 5,000 people live there. I guess it’s cold in NYC right now, so they’ve tunneled south.
Mom says she doesn’t have moles, but I can smell them. To protect her, I’ve devised a strategy of tearing up all the grass by its roots. That way, the Mole People won’t have cover when they try to sneak up on our porch.
Many scary things are in the world, including flapping flags, garbage disposals with loud clanking teeth, and Danger Pigs lurking by the fireplace. It’s good that Mom has me around, or she wouldn’t survive for two seconds.
November 20, 2021
I look at Mom and sneer. When she tries to pull me into the house using my drag line, I throw my body on the ground and don’t move. I dare her to haul my poor limp carcass up the stairs.
I know she won’t because someone will report her to the ASPCA, and she’ll get sent to Julia Tutwiler Prison in Wetumpka. Mom wouldn’t like it because the women have to wear ugly white shirts and pants that say AL Dept of Corrections on the back. All the prisoners there are cranky because they sleep together in one big room on hard beds.
Mom says she’s too old for that crap, so if I want to spend the night lying outside in the 30-degree weather, she might just let me.
November 22, 2021
President Calvin Coolidge and his wife Grace used to own a pet raccoon named Rebecca. Vinnie Joyce gave the raccoon to the president for his Thanksgiving dinner, but instead, he adopted her and gave her a collar for Christmas. Rebecca enjoyed walks on the lawn, attended the White House’s annual Easter egg roll, and even accompanied the first family on vacation to the Black Hills of South Dakota.
Unfortunately, Rebecca was not always a good raccoon. She was caught rummaging around local garbage cans multiple times and supposedly bit the president on his wrist, so she was sent to the zoo for a day-long exile.
Mom says in many ways; I remind her of a raccoon. Yesterday, I chewed up a table leg and peed in the house today. Right now, I’m scratching like a demon and howling to get out of my crate, and Mom is wondering if I would look better as a coat or the main course for Thanksgiving.
I know she is just kidding, isn’t she?
— opelikakat
I know this dog!! I love this. I love the line: "Mom is wondering if I would look better as a coat or the main course for Thanksgiving"
ReplyDeleteWell, this dog is so articulate. And a MESS! I can feel true inspiration at work here... the writer must know a dog like this... ---Macoff
ReplyDelete