The Sixtieth Writing

The most AMAZING thing happened yesterday!!!! I got my FIRST fan letter!!!!!!! I KNOW, right?? How can a LABRADOR have a HUMAN FOLLOWER who LIKES the way the LAB writes?????????

This just proves that miracles DO happen.

Here, I’ve decided to print the thing out, so you guys are reminded of what a FANTABULOUS pup [hardly] you are reading about:

Dearest Feni,

I am SO IN LOVE with your blog!! I check it at least seven or eight times a day for updates and ADORE the way you write!! My whole family waits with bated breath for your next post and would love it if you could mention us in one of your entries.

I have, like, eighteen email IDs ad have subscribed to your site on at least half of them. I am the editor of our school news paper and have mentioned your blog in every issue since the beginning of this academic year.

Thank you for being an inspiration to little girls all around the globe.



How’s about THAT?? Feni has a follower, yeah, yeah!! And, by the looks of it, she seems largely obsessed by my being, if I may say so. Who’s the queen NOW?? It’s SHOW TIME, kids!!!!!!



I’ll admit it.

Kaitlyn, as much as I hate to say this, doesn’t exist. I made her up. Just as I, if you recall correctly, made up that letter from Hollywood Records. Kaitlyn and the letter from HWR was, is and forever shall be a mere figment of my imagination.


Woof Humor

The Fifty-Ninth Crumb

Not much to talk about, actually.

The only reason I even decided to lift my paw and come all the way to the computer [dude, the three meter distance between me and the desktop was NO JOKE. YOU try walking that far. Super exhausting or WHAT??] was because I was thinking about my blog last night and I came to the conclusion that I am not being loyal enough to my viewers.

Pretty soon, the few followers that I have are gonna wake up and think, ‘Why am I even subscribing to a website that belts out less than ten posts every month??’

So from now, I have decided that, come what may, I will publish at least two articles per week. I know, it’s going to be way difficult considering how I am a DOG and if I ‘m caught hunched up over the machine by my foster-parents, I’m going to be dead meat, but I will stick to my word and deliver what I promised.

Phew, all that pinky-swearing got me tired. Time to get my jaws around a tuna sandwich!!


Woof Humor

The Fifty-Eighth Capsule

I’m sorry about “the outburst.” I was just really, really, REALLY upset. But how  would YOU like a…

There I go again. Getting all hot and bothered. Anyway, I am now going to behave like the rationaldog that I am and explain what exactly happened on that fateful day from an unbiased point of view.

OK. Where do I begin??

Ah, what about from the moment Mum [dear, darling little Mum] asked me whether I’d be interested  in going for  a short walk in the  evening.

Of course, being the enthu  cutlet [that is slang for “way too hyper doggie”] that I am, how could I refuse this opportunity to explore the great outdoors some more??

[That is a lie. The only reason I really had even the slightest objection to sleep the day away was because by around six o clock in the evening [when you’ve slept for approximately ten hours] your hind paws [I mean, legs, of course] just STOP functioning. I don’t really know a better way to put this, but everything  just goes absolutely numb and this peculiar sensation just travels through your whole body, so you are forced to sleep some more. I, for one, have no objection to THIS side effect, but the trouble begins when the family notices that you haven’t budged since breakfast. Of course, they get the crazy idea to cart you to the vet for a check-up and, believe me when I say this, there is hardly anything as embarrassing as being hauled to the doctor’s [by four gasping family members] with a pair of paws that stick out like strands on a bad hair day. Okay, this is  probably the longest bracket note in the history of blogging dogs, so I think I’m gonna get on with the story now]

Well, i waited patiently as Taylor clipped on my special studded leash and then the five of us set off and I felt so happy and carefree that maybe, just maybe, if I hadn’t suddenly gotten the urge to empty my bowels, that evening would’ve gone down as one of the happiest days of my entire  life.

But NOOOOOOO… Duh, my family SO OBVIOUSLY can’t grant me a single HOUR of ecstasy, can they?? Because just as I squatted  down to perform  daily business, Kathryn produced a camera out of NOWHERE and three clicks later, my life was changed FOREVER. The first click was to snap a photo of me while I was… Well, doing IT. The second click was to tap the Facebook icon and the  third click was when she tapped the option, “share.”

To give them credit, Mum and Dad DID tell her that what she did was despicable and that she should remove the  image from the everlasting clutches of cyberspace immediately. But even that doesn’t erase the  fact that the both of them spent a good half an hour giggling over the  same photo.

Remember that time when I stated that leaving me home alone  with their sickly relative Aunt Martha was just about the most humiliating incident that has ever happend to me?? Well, I eat my words, because  if I have  to single out one event that was THE most embarrassing of them all, then this one totally takes the  biscuit.


Woof Humor

The Fifty-Sixth Snap

The vet trip was postponed and I was too nervous about that to blog recently. But, I’m back and I swear, I am now here to stay baby!!

I guess the check-up wasn’t SO bad. I made a new friend, got to crunch chews as a after-doctor treat and was mollycoddled for the rest of the day. But I DID have to down a HORRIBLE concoction [that tasted like a mix of iguana puke and cow dung -yup, I’ve tasted BOTH-], be criticized TO MY FACE about my “fur hygiene” and forced to swallow a set of yucky tablets.

I wonder if this is what prison is like??

The family and I went for a walk today morning. I actually wasn’t too keen on this because these outings are mostly an opportunity for the sisters to point at my sagging tummy and crack jokes about my triple chin, which is not pleasant.

Before we set of, though, Dad tried coaxing me to “do my business” on the lawn so that he wouldn’t have to carry the pooper scooper around all day. I just shook my head and gave him a look that said, ‘No, no. Not in MY garden. Do we really have to go through this AGAIN??’

He didn’t get it, though. Even when I raised my eyebrows ever so slightly and attempted a “tsk-tsk” under my breath.

That’s what you get for agreeing to be adopted by HUMANS.