Ramblings · Woof Humor

Knight In Shining Armour

For the first time in the forty two long [dog] years that I’ve lived, it seems like Lady Luck might FINALLY be giving me a helping hand!!

Yes, dear reader, I am in a glorious mood today because of a number of reasons, most of them having something to do with darling little Winston [or just plain Win, as I like to call him], but I’m getting ahead of myself again, aren’t I??

This particularly cheerful story started on a pretty sour yesterday afternoon, when my so-called “family” left me behind with Grandma J and jetted off to Paris for an exotic summer vacay. Can you BELIEVE them?? What happened to “all for one and one for all”?? What happened to “no man gets left behind”??

And they’re going to PARIS, of all places. My DREAM DESTINATION. It should be ILLEGAL for people to leave behind their precious pooches on their holiday to the gastronomic capital of the world; it really should.

As you can see, I had every right to be cross. It just wasn’t FAIR.

Little did I know that in a short span of twenty four hours, I would be rescued from this highly unsavory situation by a decidedly charming member of my own species.

I didn’t know it at the time, but a friend of Dad’s was to come stay over at our place for the duration of their French sojourn and guess what??

HE BROUGHT ALONG HIS DOG!! [See?? THAT’S how family should be. Together in sickness and in health, at home and on holiday]

And Win isn’t just ANY dog. Oh, no.  He’s an adorable, purebred Labrador [just like yours truly] and he is GORGEOUS. For me, looking at him is just like looking into a mirror [a mirror that makes you skinnier and your fur glossier, but maintains the same level of FABULOUS] so it’s no WONDER that I adore his company.

Writing this update has taken away enough of my time already, time that I could’ve spent  gaily frolicking in the garden with Win. Till next time!!

Take TWO · Thoughts · Woof Humor

Hypocritical, Much?

The family and I were watching a spot of TV the other day when this advert about “Camp Canine” [“it’s exactly what it sounds like; a summer camp for dogs!”] came on and, as if on cue, every single member of my family pounced on me with the same exact question; “Why can’t you be like the dogs on TV, Feni??”

The animals in question happened to be bounding across a field of some sort, their tails magically wagging in sync with their perfectly perky ears, and I couldn’t help but be taken aback by the blatant hypocrisy I was being showered with.

I mean, aren’t you guys the ones constantly complaining about the unrealistic standards celebrities set for the rest of the human population?? How supermodels with their size-zero hips and spotless faces aren’t “realistic”?? How it’s unfair that y’all are compared to overly-made-up actors and actresses??

And yet you don’t miss a beat when it comes to rating your own pet against a telly-pooch who has most definitely been caked with at least twenty different creams and lotions before filming so its fur appears all glossy for the cameras. Tell me I’m not the only one seeing the ridiculousness of the situation!!

Honestly, for such an “evolved” species, you guys have a lot of growing up to do, that’s for sure!!

Take TWO · Woof Humor

Privacy, Please!

For those of you who have ever -and I mean EVER- thought to yourselves “well, it’d sure be nice to be born a dog, wouldn’t it??”, I’d like to set the record straight and assure you that the life of a canine is, in fact, the EXACT OPPOSITE of “nice”.

Even if you push past the usual complains of not being able to speak, play Mario Kart or eat Chipotle [which are all soul-crushing in their own right], there’s the whole issue of privacy.

From the moment I wake up, my every move is observed and scrutinized by at least three different people and that’s not exactly the kind of attention I’m looking for.

Whether I’m snoozing or pooping or licking my you-know-what [three of my most-indulged-in activities, in that order], you can be sure that there’s at least one pair of nosy human eyes catching every movement [ha!! A “nosy pair of eyes”!! The English language is as strange as it is enchanting].

This is about as pleasant as it sounds [i.e, not pleasant at all] and I’d definitely like all this excessive attention to stop ASAP, thanks very much.

If you feel that it’s time animals are guaranteed the right to privacy and a stare-free poo, do take the time to sign the petition I put up in the hopes that we get together and change things – before it’s too late…

It's A Dog's Life

Merry Christmas Eve Eve Eve Eve!

I was casually minding my business earlier this morning when it suddenly hit me that we are four days from Christmas. FOUR DAYS!!

Are you KIDDING ME?! WHEN DID THIS HAPPEN?! WHY DIDN’T I GET THE MEMO??

I mean, I still have SO MUCH TO DO!! There are candy canes to mass order, Christmas cakes to smuggle, Netflix Holiday specials to binge-watch…

Time to get my elf on!

 

It's A Dog's Life · Take TWO

Just A Regular Sunday

You know how everybody has their own little Sunday schedule?? Like, some people spend the day with their kids, some work on passion projects, some do yoga, yada yada yada.

Turns out, my Sunday activity is sleep.

Hardcore sleep.

It’s 3 o’clock in the afternoon and I’m only just waking up and, dog or not, this can’t be the healthiest Sunday ritual.

In my defense, though, this has turned into more of a daily habit, so at least I’m consistent.

Uncategorized

At Long Last

After nearly two weeks of discomfort and torture beyond compare, the Lassa has FINALLY gone back home. This is a cause of elation for several reasons, the most important being that I can now watch Masterchef all by myself without having to share the bean bag with another furry mutt.

Life’s lookin’ good, for sure.

It's A Dog's Life · Take TWO

Don’t Overstay Your Welcome

Intruder McUninvited is still camping over at my place and the situation is getting worse by the day. I mean, I have more than enough problems [try typing a sentence with paws for hands and then you can talk to me about struggle] without having to constantly guard my territory, thanks very much.

To make matters worse, the dog’s a Lassa, which is probably just code for “walking cloud” and don’t try to tell me that anyone with half a heart wouldn’t melt at the sight of THAT. Really, it’s all I can do to guard myself against succumbing to its intense cuteness while simultaneously safeguarding my turf.

It really is a dog’s life.