…Annnd I’m back!!
After just about a year of sitting around and neglecting my fans from all around the globe [read: my Mom], I, Feni the Labrador, am officially making my triumphant return to the blogosphere.
Well, maybe not so triumphant considering how my follower count has dropped drastically and my page views are now in negatives, but that’s not really what we’re talking about here, is it??
After what seems like an eternity and a half, I’m BACK and so, so ready to start sharing all the gossip from my glamorous life [just this morning, I ate breakfast AND a whole scoop of London Dairy Vanilla ice cream. In one sitting. I don’t see how life could get any more glamorous than that, honestly].
So strap in, sit back and get ready for the adventure of a lifetime because this dog is BACK, and you’d better get used to it.
I was casually minding my own business while stalking Karlie Kloss on Instagram yesterday evening when I happened to overhear my own MOTHER [well, foster mother] on the phone with one of her baking buddies.
What’s that?? There’s nothing scandalous about chatting up casual acquaintances??
Absolutely. I agree with you completely.
UNLESS you’re calling them up to nonchalantly tell them that you’re planning to SHAVE YOUR DOG!! ESPECIALLY if the aforementioned dog has NO IDEA about this to-be drastic change in her presently-perfect appearance.
I got such a shock when I heard this that I was forced to close all the open social media tabs at once [well, after reading through a few more captions and liking one or two more photos] and proceeded to promptly faint at the foot of the family study table [as quietly as I could manage it, because, being a dog, I’m naturally not supposed to be using the computer and hearing a loud thud from the forbidden study caused by my fainting would surely raise a few unwanted questions].
I mean, REALLY, imagine me naked!! Well, not naked but as close as you can get to that being a dog. I’ll be furless and shivering [hey, the summer can get frosty too!!] and the laughing stock of the entire town…
Oh my GANDOLF, the humiliation!!
If only I were Karlie Kloss, strutting the runway sporting the best clothes in the whole world, flaunting my flawless cheekbones on my insanely popular Instagram page, my life devoid of fur-related problems…
Just my luck!!
You know when you -as in any dog owner- try to pull a fast one on your pet and then bask in the after-glow of having successfully tricked an innocent, dependent, little puppy into doing something you know no dog in their right minds would want to do [like -I don’t know- have their entire SNOUT shoved into a bucket of soapy water under the presence of being BATHED]??
And you know how you feel all great and accomplished and triumphant at the end of it?? Super relieved that you got away with it??
Well, guess what?? You didn’t.
You see, dogs are much sharper than you give us credit for, and we know about EVERYTHING that goes on around us. And you want to know something else??
We’re killer at revenge.
So the next time you fool your Beagle into staying at home while you party the night away, I suggest you check your bed sheets thoroughly before slipping in that night, lest you be caught unaware by a little -ahem- surprise…
This blog is slowly turning into more than just a blog for me.
It’s becoming a source of life.
Not only does it let me meet and interact with YOU, my lovely subscribers [ha! Like anyone’s going to believe I have more than 4 followers, anyway], it also gives me the chance to pour out my deepest thoughts, uncork my buzzing mind and just let loose for a while.
It allows me to be heard. Do you know how rare that is nowadays [for dogs and -increasingly- humans, too]??
And I find myself becoming obsessed. Not wanting, but NEEDING to be on here, either with a post to add to the archives or to just re-read my old writings or even to browse through my non-existent notifications.
And it’s scary.
Because it means that I am dependant not just on Mom [who else is gonna’ cater to my stomach’s needs??] and Pedigree [who else is going to be catered to my stomach??] and Modern Family [what else am I gonna’ binge-watch on Lazy Saturday], but a slice of cyberspace as well?? Are you serious??
Which is why I’ve decided that a break is well overdue. Ever since I started this thing up just over 2 years ago, I have worked consistently and regularly and come up with posts on a weekly basis which is a big deal, especially if you take into consideration how I need to sneak about to get my hands on the computer and the large risk I face every time I do [being a Labrador is not so easy, ya’ know].
Also, I have to admit that 1D taking a break is kind of where I got the inspiration from so shoutout to those guys [I’m giving them a shoutout?? This is beyond pathetic].
So… I guess this is goodbye.
See you in December😀
I like to think of myself as a no-frills kind of dog. I don’t ask for toys or chews or premium kibble. I don’t even remember the last time I hinted to Mom that I needed to go out and -well- relieve myself [which, granted, is mainly because I’ve started peeing behind the sofa in the study but whatever. What Mom doesn’t know won’t kill her].
And, sure, I sometimes throw a bit of a tantrum when my birthday/Christmas/any-festival-to-be-honest present hauls turn out to be measly, but apart from that, I’m an angel. Honestly, dogs like me don’t come along very often.
I don’t ask for fancy collars of gourmet biscuits; silk baskets or a robot assistant [OK, I might have asked for THAT last Christmas but I didn’t really mean it. And OK, maybe I refused to look at Mom and Dad for the next few weeks after I learned that they hadn’t gifted me one, but I was only joking. Obviously]; custom-made, YSL Halloween costumes or animal-friendly karaoke systems…
The one thing I DO ask for, however, the one thing I DEMAND, is being served my food on time.
That’s all I want.
And am I granted that common courtesy?? Does my so-called “family” do the one thing, the ONE thing, I beg them to do??
The answer is a exasperatingly loud and clear NO. No, they do not. They do not serve me my food before I am reduced to shimmying on the floor as a sort of “will-dance-for-food” routine. They do not bother feeding me until I have already starved half to death. It is mortifying and degrading and I do not appreciate it one bit.
Honestly, if I ever write an autobiography, copyright had better not stop me from titling it “The Hunger Games.” It had better not.
There are two kinds of people in this world; one, people who live for Chipotle and two, people who are just kidding themselves.
Everything is back to normal around here and I couldn’t be more content if I tried. The family’s all settled in, the girls are recovering nicely from their first day at school after the holiday, [always a rude shock, isn’t it??]I’m slowly getting used to their sometimes-overwhelming presence…
This is the life.