It's A Dog's Life · Ramblings · Woof Humor

PSOH=G2CB=UF+F+F [Trust Me, It Will Make Sense In 5 Minutes]

Mom, Dad and the kids have been gone for a full five days now, and let me tell you, if I’d known that them stepping out of the house would lead to my life DRASTICALLY improving, I would have kicked them out a LOONG time ago. In fact, I have even brought the entire situation down to a clear-cut, mathematical equation;

Parents+Siblings Out of the House = Grandma+Grandpa Come to Babysit = UNLIMITED FUN+FUN+FUN

When I look at it now, this equation really seems like pure genius. I mean, who needs boring Em=c2 [or something like that] when you have PSOH=G2CB=UF+F+F?? [That’s the boiled-down version of my mind-boggling discovery, see??] Why would you break your head over a complicated, over-the-top formula which basically helps ZERO people [except maybe the science nerds who find this sort of thing interesting] when you could study my method in about two minutes and go on to radically enhance your life??

I swear, my breakthrough is probably going to save a TON of lives. I mean, have you WATCHED the news lately?? Thousands upon thousands of college students, office workers, circus zebras [OK, maybe not CIRCUS zebras, but regular, Savannah ones for SURE], maniac bosses and other people from pretty much EVERY walk of life are committing suicide out of sheer, unadulterated BOREDOM.

And, OK, what I just stated may not be a verified FACT –as such- but there was a time when cigarettes were said to be non-cancerous. Heck, at one point, people believed that the EARTH was the centre of the universe [Thank you, A Brief History of Time –who says I’m not cultured??]. Give it some time, and I am 100% SURE that it will be uncovered that the main cause of suicide in the United States of America is NOT depression but is, in fact, boredom.

My point is, why would you go on to throw the towel when you have an instant recipe to be entertained 24/7 at your disposal?? [Which is EXACTLY what I’m providing what with my new innovation]

After a lot of thinking and consideration, I have decided to offer a proposal to all the major publishing houses of the world to print my astounding theory in a book [Confession: That is a lie. I barely even came up with my technique to instantaneous enjoyment. How on EARTH could I POSSIBLY have spent more than 2 seconds musing about whether to turn it into a bestseller?? Really, people, you astonish me with your ignorance and readiness-to-believe sometimes. How on EARTH you could even REMOTELY consider yourselves to be superior to us canines is a mystery alright].

Of course, the book will still need a fair bit of work to be invested into it [mainly because it only consists of 90-odd characters as of now] but the publishers can do that. After all, I have presented them with a very stable core; all they need to do is pad it using a few paragraphs and flowery language. I mean, how hard can it be?? I do it on this blog on an almost-daily basis!!

Whoops, I just revealed a VERY important, trade-secret of successful blogging to you, the common folk. Be a dawl [translation: doll] and pretend you didn’t read nothin’ [double negative, I KNOW] would ya’?? -HELLO unexpected Texan drawl. Come along when I needed you LEAST, I see.-


So, that was awkward.

Which is just as well, because it’s about time I wrapped this post up, anyway. I mean, I’ve spent ten entire minutes typing this up and I don’t want to waste a single extra second staring at a computer screen when I could be fussed silly by my devoted slaves [Told you I’d give you a shout out, Grandpa and Grandma!!].


It's A Dog's Life · Ramblings · Woof Humor

Why Holidays Are The Greatest Thing EVER

If you’re sitting in front of your computer, groaning along the lines of, “Damn it!! Feni the GREATEST BEING EVER is not only flawless and a brilliant over-achiever, but she’s also about to gush about how she’s going on a month-long trip to Milan while I’m going to be stuck here in this stinky office cubicle for the next 30 days, trying to sneak pictures of her FABULOUS holiday onto the browser without my boss catching me,” you’re in LUCK because not only am I NOT going to go for a vacation to Milan [or anywhere else, really] in the foreseeable future, I am also going to be stuck at home.

Now, if you’re even kind of like I think you are, you must be wondering, “Well, if she isn’t going on a journey to some exotic land or the other, and is going to be held prisoner at home INSTEAD, WHY is the title titled what the title is titled [quick challenge: try saying that thirty thousand times, SUPER fast]??”

Because, my dear reader, while I DID mention that I am going to be stuck at home, I didn’t add that I am going to be stuck at home WITH Grandma and Grandpa.

You see, that last bit makes a world of a difference, because WITHOUT G&G, I would LITERALLY be STUCK here for a whole two weeks, due to the fact that Mom and Dad are ACTUALLY [and not just fantasizing about it with their blog viewers] going to Europe for about twelve days while Taylor and Kathryn are attending Summer Camp. However, WITH Grandma and Grandpa… I’m going to be the OPPOSITE of stuck. I’m going to be UNSTUCK –wait, that doesn’t sound about right.

I’m going to be INVINCIBLE!!

This is solely because I can twist G&G around my paw for just about anything. One lick and tail wag to Grandma and she’ll start making arrangements for me to dine with the Queen of England, if that’s what I really want. One long, adoring look in Grandpa’s direction and he’ll be ordering a life-time supply of Choco Royale ice cream in my name before you can say “GRANDPARENTS RULE!!”

And THIS, Dear Reader, is exactly why I am FULLY looking forward to the tenth of this month, which is when the whole family departs for their various Holiday destinations while MY Holiday comes to ME!! While they roam around sticky, humid swamps in a forest infested with Malaria-carrying mosquitoes [or, you know, air-conditioned, boutique malls], I’ll be sitting RIGHT in front of the T.V, being waited on hand and foot by the most devoted slaves anyone could ever employ. While they aimlessly wander around concrete jungles in search of Wi-Fi hotspots, I’ll be ruling the roost back at home, with all the Internet I could ever need.

Whoever coined the term “Dog’s Life” was CLEARLY NOT a dog, I can assure you.

It's A Dog's Life · Ramblings · Take TWO · Thoughts · Woof Humor

April Fools

The only thing worse than being pranked on April 1st is NOT being pranked on April 1st. Trust me when I say this, because I’ve been on both sides of the spectrum.

Last year, [you know, when I first tried a hand at fooling unsuspecting blog viewers] even though I didn’t really tell you about it [because of sheer embarrassment], I got pranked at least two DOZEN times by my siblings. In a single day.

And I don’t mean that I was made to look like an utter MORON because of really impressive hoaxes, like taping my entire room [well, if I had one] with newspaper cuttings or converting my entire room [well, if I had one] into a toilet.

No no no.

APPARENTLY, my BELOVED sisters [sarcasm intended], decided that if they were going to ROYALLY fool me on April 1st [like, who even falls for anything on APRIL FOOLS anymore?? It’s not like the media DOESN’T constantly keep reminding us about it from January 1st], they wouldn’t even make me feel a little better about looking like a complete ASS by crafting such a brilliant scheme that ANYONE would have fallen for it. Of COURSE not.

Instead, I was moronified [Is that even a word?? Moronif- Well, it is one now] by totally USELESS and PATHETIC jokes like Whoopee cushions and the whole “my-cat-is-so-charming-she-keeps-chasing-the-laser-point-I-continuously-flash-on-the-carpet-because-I-am-a-jerk” thing [except, y’know, I’m a DOG and all].

Like, are you freaking KIDDING me?? Laughing because it seems like your dog has farted even though you know perfectly well that the sound was produced by the inflated balloon you placed under her rear end is SO amateur hour [though, to be fair, I was managing the sound effects on my own most of the time… If you know what I mean].

So that was my situation last year. 2014 [Granolabar, that seems like SUCH a long time ago].

This year?? A WHOLE different story.

This year, my siblings didn’t even think I was worth the cheap laughs. Prodding a store-bought farterizer [PLEASE TELL ME THAT’S A WORD] under my butt for some light entertainment?? Nah, too much trouble. This year, they didn’t even flash a red dot in front of my face and tempt me to chase it down the hall [and then proceed to upload the whole thing on YouTube, obviously]. This year, they didn’t even wake me up with a rain of ice.

This year, I was completely ignored.

And let me tell you, it felt like [BEEP!!].

I woke up as usual, ate breakfast as usual, did my morning business –ahem- as usual, slept as usual, hogged on my lunchtime kibble as usual, slept some more as usual, refused to go for my walk as usual, lustfully watched the family gorge a kind-sized box of Cinnabons as usual, had dinner as usual and finally, with a heavy heart, go to bed as usual.

And the WHOLE [BEEP!!]ING time, I kept thinking to myself, Ok, it’s going to happen any minute now… They’re going to pull a FANTASTIC one on me ANY SECOND NOW… I’m going to make an idiot of myself on a global website ANY NANOSECOND NOW…

But it never came. That minute/second/nanosecond never came.

A year ago, I would have been super relieved if only my sisters quit humiliating themselves with such inadequate practical jokes [a dog can only get excited about a random bone on the floor and then be shot in the butt with a dart after approaching it -and then be forced to take the whole thing good-humouredly- so many times]. But this time around, I found myself CRAVING for them to mix so much as a DROP of Tabasco sauce into my meals.

So I guess the moral of the story is, guys, be grateful for what you have. Your sisters may be annoying as heck and you might just be considering sitting on their faces while they sleep [or maybe that’s just me], but you never know what you’re going to miss their attention.

Also, try not to get pissed when someone pranks you [especially on April Fools]. Take it as a sign that they care about you so much that they went to such elaborate lengths just to add a little humor into your life.

Unless they screw with your food. In that case…

Get ‘em gooood.

Woof Humor

The Seventy-Second Strip

I’m fully aware that in my previous post I promised you, Dear Reader, that I’d get back to you in a few moments. But I couldn’t due to mathematical issues. Anyway, I’m here now, and I can truthfully state that I have:

1] Two bits o’ Good news


2] Two bits o’ Bad

The Good news is; remember that Dog Kennel Dad was talking about?? Well, recent study [read: I dug out Dad’s calendar and read a bit] show that Dad was RECOMMENDING Dog Kennels to his bud. They weren’t for me. The other chunk of Good news is that… WE’RE GOING TO TEXAS FOR A VACATION!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Taylor informed me about it today. She was all, ‘What do YOU think about, I do’t know, going to TEXAS FOR A WEEK, Feni??’ Of course, she doesn’t know that I can understand every single word she utters [except the really long ones like Fastidious  and Turpitude. [I’m not even sure I spelled those right]

Now for the Bad news;

I get TERRIBLY carsick. Once, when Mum decided to take me to Grandma & Grandpa’s [which is about two miles away], I threw up so much on the back seat that they SOLD THE CAR. No joke.

The other sad part is that I’m not sue I’ll be able to blog so frequently [not that I’m a regular poster, anyway] but I will try my best.

Peace Out!! [That’s kind of my new favorite thing to say…]

Woof Humor

The Seventieth Complaint

Maybe it really seems like I grumble too much. Like I make a huge deal about the most random stuff on the planet. But THIS time, they’ve crossed the line. Like, COMPLETELY. And, for once, it TOTALLY isn’t my fault.

I was cruising around the hall, waiting for Mum to dish me out my usual lunchtime food quota when I happened to overhear Dad distinctly mention the words “Dog Kennel.” And we ALL know what THAT means.

Faster than one can say “Red Lorry, Blue Lorry” seven times without fumbling [which, I admit, isn’t that fast], I raced to where my father was standing and patiently awaited for him to continue his conversation with his buddy who came to stay for a couple days.

Alas I was too late, because as soon as I reached, Dad’s phone started buzzing which lead to him chatting on his mobile for the next four point thirty four minutes.

So I scuttled the HECK out of there, located the nearest electronic device, -that wasn’t either locked, shut off or had a password- and began blogging as fat as my paws could handle.

Do YOU think they’re secretly planning to ship me off to a KENNEL?? I’ve had a few cousins spend the night there, and by the way they describe the “toilet situation” I don’t think it’s gonna’ be pretty.


Woof Humor

The Sixty-Ninth Chunk

The Radio has been blaring Katy Perry tunes since yesterday afternoon and, frankly speaking, I am so sick of it, I could fling it to the wall and watch it shatter into a million pieces without feeling a shred of guilt.

It isn’t that I don’t like listening to modern music; in fact Ms Perry [or is it Mrs?? These pop idols marry and remarry faster than a frog can unfurl its tongue] has always been a particular favorite. It’s just that… Does it always HAVE to be at MAXIMUM volume??  Does it always have to be so loud that even dear, deaf Mr Gaston bangs the walls frequently for us to “turn it down??”

In fact, as I type this, The One The Got Away is going on. Full blast. My brains are going to explode from extreme-melody-overdose ANY MOMENT NOW. [Maybe that’s why I could feel stuff wriggling in my head during lunch…]


In another Life…


I will make you stay…


So I won’t have to say you were…


The One That Got Away!!