Hi Nice Friends!
I really sometimes think that things in the world are made up just so nice little dogs will not understand them. Of course there are all the usual things like how do Mr. Al Roker, Mr. Anderson Cooper, Mr. Carson Daly and Miss Katie Couric all live in the little television machine together, but still stay so really really happy.
Then there is also why in the world someone would go to the trouble of making some really yummy-smelling, crunchy green food, put it in a little black plastic box, stick it waaaayyyyy behind the refrigerator and not expect that a friendly whippet dog would think it was a snack! But still, that is a thing that happened, and it made Daddy and the girl (who I used to call The Girl before I found out her name is Mommy) start to run around really fast and make telephone calls when they came home and found me with my snack. They and their fuzzy-faced friend on whom I have a crush that is not small grabbed me and Mr. Mordred and marched us to a place where I got stuck with a sharp thing, and then re-saw everything that I had eaten for the past couple of days - even my crunchy green snack that they now told me was meant for rats and rats only! And then if that wasn't sad enough, I had to eat some powder that made my mouth all black and didn't taste anywhere near as good as my snack had, and Daddy and the Mommy make me eat a little pill every night now. At least they put in in yummy peanut butter, so I guess it all worked out tasty for me after all!
Oh, but Mr. Mordred is still not very super happy with me because even though he didn't eat any of my off-limits snack, he still had to get an ouchy shot and see his dinner again that night. I really should do something to make him happy. Perhaps that will involve Parmesan cheese or Miss India Husky-Chihuahua because those are things that he loves, but it will not involve crunchy, green, behind-the-refrigerator things because those things, as I know now, are very bad for dogs and other canines.
xoxoMorgane
Hi Nice Friends!
There are some dogs who have jobs that are really big and important and that aren't even about being pretty, like my job is. Daddy was reading on the pieces of paper that there are some dogs who go to school to learn how to sniff when two-legged human people have inside parts that are not behaving very nicely. It is because we, as dogs, have noses that are like very strong machines, and we can do things like tell how many days you have been wearing your socks for, or if a strange two-legger we might meet is the mommy or daddy of a dog that is not with them right then, but is at home.
I like thinking that the special parts of us that make us dogs can be used to help the nice human people we love! Maybe if I get a few days off from my job of being really pretty, I can go to sick-sniffing school, too!
xoxoMorgane
Gentle Readers,
Strange things are afoot (or should I say "a-paw"?). As I have previously mentioned, a band of especially clever and enterprising squirrels absconded with all of ours and Daddy's things, and relocated them to another burrow - which Daddy bravely and smartly tracked down and took over. It seems that the same band of fluffy-tailed felons struck The Girl's living quarters and relocated her possessions here as well! Oh cruel and cunning squirrels!
But, I have not yet shared the most curious development. The other night, The Girl came in the door holding a plastic box that - and I know I will sound as if I am off my kibble when I say this - but it smelled and sounded as if it had some strange sort of four-legger in it that was not a fellow dog, a squirrel, a deer, or even a cursed feline! Can you imagine my incredulity?
Daddy and The Girl keep going into a room and not letting us in and giggling about something they call a "bun-knee." Miss Morgane has never heard of such a creature before, either but reports that the sound and scent of this "bun-knee" cause her to be both oddly enthused and ravenous.
More as things develop, but I remain, as always, your faithful Mordred T. Dog - Irish Wolfhound At Large.
M.T.D.
Hello nice friends!
I am sorry I have not written very much on the interweb site very much for the past few days, but something very funny is going on. As a little whippet dog, there are some things I am very good at – like being skinny and running fast, and fitting between Daddy and the couch. But there are some things I am not always good at, and one of them is sometimes figuring out what is going on.
Daddy keeps putting Mr. Mordred and me in the back of the car and I go to sleep thinking that I will wake up and we will be in the grassy/sometimes snowy land, but instead he keeps taking us to a place that he calls our "new home." The Girl Who Sits Close To Daddy On The Couch is usually in the place, but there is no couch. There is really not anything, but Daddy and The Girl hug each other a lot and make the walls different colors, while I and Mr. Mordred sleep and sniff new things. Then Daddy and Mr. Mordred and me get back in the car and I wake up back at my house which is all full of boxes that sadly are not filled with either tasty chicken or soft things to lie down on.
I don't care very much where I am so long as there is Daddy and Mr. Mordred and food and my squeaky fish toy and a soft blanket and a television machine that has Mr. Maury Povich living inside it. His voice makes me feel like there are happy fireflies in my head. And if The Girl is also at the place where we are, I am glad because she smells often like bacon, and she has two hands, both of which she might at any time use for petting me.
Oh – and I hid under the dresser the night when the loud bangs and horns and kisses happened, but Mr. Mordred said that it all meant Happy New Year, and when things are loud and happy, many times there is cake, so I hope you all were happy. And maybe had cake.
xoxoMorgane
