Ahem.
Gentle Readers, it has come to my attention that my young colleague, Miss Morgane has divulged the sordid details of my neglect of my guard duties yesterday. I appreciate that my non-well-being was cause for the entire pack's concern, and I apologize profusely, but in my defense, my tummy was the yuckiest I can recall its ever being. Can you imagine the frustration I encountered, not having the energy to ascertain the origins of many and varied suspicious sounds and scents, and protect my Daddy from them? Oh, the caninity!
And while I was all achey and pukey on the floor (and the bed and the couch, and I think possibly on Daddy) so very many things passed before my eyes – all the walkies taken, sidewalk treats savored, faces licked, and sweat socks dismantled. I've had the best life a Wolfhound could hope for, but I realize, there are things I still must accomplish.
1. Try even harder to let my Daddy know how very much I love him. If that entails waking up to deliver morning kisses at 5 a.m. rather than my usual 6 a.m., then so be it.
2. Eat more butter. Butter is awesome.
3. Miss India Husky-Chihuahua of Brooklyn, New York – you have the most bewitching tail I've ever had the privilege to lay nose to. Would you perhaps consider meeting me for a frolic near the Doggie Beach at Prospect Park some brisk, winter afternoon? I have a pigeon carcass I've been saving behind a boulder there for just such an occasion, and I'd be honored to share.
Carpe beefem!
M.T.D.
p.s. Canine colleagues and/or your people, please let the charming Morgane and me make your acquaintance via our new message boards. I'm available for cuddles, guard duties, long walks and discussions of French surrealist cinema. Un Chien Andalou is a particular favorite…
Dear Mordred, I, Pearl, a German short-haired pointer, have just today been informed of your gastric trials, and do hope that everything has turned out okay for you. I feel I must warn you, however, that if the green-pajama-clad individual learns of the little pie-eating incident that occurred two days previous (I believe it was pecan, if memory serves), he will likely nix such opportunities in the future, so keep your dewclaws crossed that your nice daddy doesn't divulge this information. And by the way, that stuff that made your mouth black will impart a similar coloration to your, uh, shall we say, "products of digestion" for the next day or so, so do try to avoid any white carpet that your daddy may have out. Regards, Pearl
Posted by: Pearl'sPerson at November 28, 2006 02:50 PMOh, Mordred! I am a cat and the world says we cannot be friends, but still I feel an even brotherly connection to you. You like waking up your people an hour ahead of schedule--I like waking up my person an hour ahead of schedule! Sick or well, it's fun! You hide vanquished prey--I hide vanquished prey! It is almost like we are the same being. So it is with great concern that I hear of your trials and distress, and with great compassion that I hope for a full and swift recovery. I can't go into Prospect Park because I get panic attacks going two blocks even while my person carries me in a cat papoose, so please accept my good wishes from my not-so-distant window.
Posted by: Spike at November 29, 2006 01:47 PM