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

Here’s A Little Activity…

I just want to take a moment to truly thank and give a well-deserved shout out to something without which this blog would have become INCREDIBLY popular [no, you didn’t read that wrong]; My Randomness.

I am not joking.

If you want proof of the fact that I am hands-down, THE most absurdly random person on the planet; check out my previous post. [Here, I’ll even provide a handy link] Read it once. Read it twice. It doesn’t really matter as long as you understand the pattern. As long as you decipher the little twists and turns my brain took as it formulated the post. As long as you are able to crack the code and figure out what I’m going to write before you read it,

Got it?? Got the sequence?? Are you sure?? 100%?? ABSOLUTELY CERTAIN??

Good.

BECAUSE YOU ARE NOW A CERTIFIED LIAR!!

The truth is, there isn’t any system. There’s no pattern, no design. I just type whatever gobbledygook finds itself in my brain at that point of time and THAT, Dear Blog Chancer-Uponer, is the fastest and most effective way to get rid of readers.

You’re welcome ❤

Woof Humor

The Eighty-First Struggle

405 LETTERS!!!!!!!!! All I can do nowadays is wake up, answer fan mail, eat, answer fan mail and then go back to sleep!! It’s tiring me out, this routine. I’m not sure whether I’ll be able to continue with “Ask B-Dawg” for much longer.

And I know that if I do so, it will leave a lot of hearts will be shattered, a lot of faces smeared with snot and tears, a lot of fans disappointed [Their calling themselves “B-Friends now. Isn’t that KIYOOT???] . But it’s for the best. I’m afraid, for once in my life, I will have to be selfish and put my own health first.

I’m just happy that I got this chance to interact and possibly help so many kids out there. If only they have someone to confide in… Hey, I know what to do!! If this whole “B-Dawg” business gets too out of hand, I can always hand it down to somebody… Somebody who has no life, no social interaction and definitely nothing else to do than sit around all day with a bunch of letters.

Unfortunately, there seems like there’s no one on this planet to fill that criteria other than… well, me [harsh, but true]. Looks like I’m stuck with this for a while… :/ [That’s supposed to be a frowny face, for those of you who don’t know your emoticons]

Woof Humor

The Eightieth Advice Column

Apparently WOof Diary readers across the globe liked the whole “Ask B-Dawg” concept because GUESS WHAT???? After publishing the previous post, I got SEVENTY-EIGHT FAN LETTERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! And it’s my EIGHTIETH POST ON THIS SITE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

This is too much good stuff for one day. I wish I could make some lame excuse and go lie down, but I CAN’T. You see, us advice-givers have a responsibility towards our questioners. We have to answer their queries.

Some of the mail was too private to post on the world wide web, but I will post the top two questions I got this past week. I hope I did the askers justice with my answers!!

#1

TO: B-Dawg

I read this blog, woofdiaries, everyday and I think I am addicted!! I spend every waking moment waiting for the author to publish something new so I can devour it. Is this bad???

-SuperFan

And I said;

My, my, my!! It must be one HECK of a site!! I mean to say, no, of course it isn’t a problem. Go on, wait for it with bated breath and then devour every word. Oh, and tell your friends about it too. That will help your… um, respiratory issues. 

B-Dawg

 

#2

Is being scared of spotted underwear necessarily a bad thing??

-Just curious

 

And I said;

I’m pretty sure you got a problem there, buddy. Or maybe this is just a phase. Has this been going on for long?? Of so, I advise you to check out a psych immediately. If not, then you’re fine. You’ll grow out of it. Hang in there!!

B-Dawg

Woof Humor

The Seventy-Ninth Greeting

I just got my first “Ask B-Dawg” letter today!! What’s “Ask B-Dawg??” Well, a few weeks ago, I started posting ads online about a “smart, Cambridge-alumnus shrink who can solve all of your problems in a trice.” [In case you haven’t figured, that’s my description. For obvious reasons, I could script a REAL summary of myself, could I?? NOBODY would want to ask a “Talking Dog With No Degrees Whatsoever” for advice. Even I wouldn’t] Of course, B-Dawg is only y FAVOURITE MOVIE STAR and that’s why I chose that as my alias.

Here it is, my very first question:

Dear B-Dawg,

I really like your pseudonym. -I checked up “pseudonym.” It’s a fancy way to say “pen name”- But the real reason I wrote to you is because I need someone to tell me what to do. I’m an eight-year old girl with a dream… I want to be famous!! It’s a pretty common desire among kids my age, but I REALLY want to make it into the music industry. I’ve written a whole album, but I don’t have the courage to tell my parents about it. What if they laugh?? They’re the sweetest Mom and Dad on earth, but I’m not sure if they’ll get it. What do YOU think I should do?? 

Starry-Eyed PreTeen

This is what I wrote back:

Every other kid wants to be popular. Who doesn’t want a bunch of fans trailing after you?? But keep in mind that fame isn’t as glossy as it looks. I know lots of super stars -OK, I might have kind of lied over there- and they all face problems of their own. I think what you need to focus on is not how well the people receive you, but the quality of your work. Talk to your parents, dearie. I’m 100% sure they’ll be nothing but encouraging and supportive. These are your PARENTS we’re talking about!! Shine on, girl. You’ll always be a star to them 🙂

So?? What d’ya think?? Is that what you would’ve said?? Hit the comments section, kids, and tell me what you think.

B-Dawg

Over and Out

Woof Humor

The Seventy-Eighth Home Coming

Home

It ain’t so bad being back here. I’ve already settled in, even though we reached here fifteen minutes ago. Mom, the superwoman, has already unpacked all the luggage, and everyone is acting like we never even went on vacation. Like we never picked strawberries or got our tan on or ate ice-cream on a daily basis.  Everyone’s cool, everything’s back to the way it used to be.

I met the gardener. Tried to inform him about my Mum’s chicken pox medicine, but gave up when he sat down and started meditating something that sounded like, ‘Get this mad dog away from me, my Lord, or I will be forced to cut its tonsils out.’ I’m sure he didn’t really mean it. Different people have different ways to show their love. I’m sure the gardener expresses affection by chopping off body parts. No biggie.

Although I’m TRYING to act cool on the outside, on the in, I’m TOTALLY cooler. This dog [that’s me] couldn’t be happier. This >sob< dog is right where she >sob< belongs. This… My… um, allergies are acting up. I think I should go lie down. Don’t worry, it isn’t like I’m crying because I SO desperately want to go back… It’s just that I start shedding tears whenever in close proximity to… um, gardeners. Yup, they are COMPLETE allergy-prone guys. Beware of the gardener!! >Laughs Feebly<

 

Woof Humor

The Seventy-Seventh Paper

LAST DAY!!!!!! Can’t believe a whole week of holiday has already passed by me… I wish I could do it all over again, you know?? But… it was nice while it lasted. I had the greatest time and I’m looking forward to getting back to my own territory and my own bed and my own blankie and the goldfish and the garden and the kitchen [even though I’m not allowed to enter] and the…

Who am I kidding?? I DON’T WANT TO GO BACK HOME!!!! Who would WANT to go back home after seven days of ice cream, surfing, the beach, strawberry farms… I can’t believe this, but I’m actually tearing up… That’s how sad I am about going back…

Sure, I miss the place a little. I want to know how the gardener’s son is doing [she has chicken pox… Poor boy. If only I could tell him my Mom’s homemade, chicken pox cure; spreading a mash of rabbit droppings and pig dung all over the victim’s body. Or, wait… is that for killing fragrance???? Hmm…]

At least I have ONE day left, right?? I should exploit it to the fullest, shouldn’t I??

Or maybe I’ll just stay at home, bite the ends of Mom’s expensive scarf and blame it on the cat. Tee Hee.

Woof Humor

The Seventy-Sixth Declaration

Little did  know it at the time, but agreeing to go on this vacation was one of the smartest moves I’ve ever made!! I’m feasting on home-made vanilla ice cream every day, we have the most exotic meals at open-air restaurants, my tan is getting on nicely… What more could a dog ask for, really??

I’ve made quite a few friends too. There’s Karli and Kevin who are living in the villa next to ours. They’re AMAZINGLY energetic [but, then again, every other dog seems “amazingly energetic” to me, thanks to my amazingly flabby belly] and have the shiniest coat I’ve ever seen on a dog [except mine, of course]. Then there’s that pesky cat who wipes off any leftover food we leave unattended in the kitchen. Oh, and [how could I forget??] Rascal, the little mouse that lives under the bed. He’s my holiday-BFF. Last night, he brought a chunk of cheese for me to eat. Wasn’t that sweet??

I’m getting along nicely. I’m beginning to feel that I’ve wasted half my life sitting at home like a mourning widow. I’ve got the world to explore, baby, and it doesn’t help that I go to approximately ONE holiday per THREE YEARS. It’s time I become President and write up another law; every animal on the planet [except any member of the cat species] is entitled to at least SEVENTY domestic vacations and TWENTY overseas ones. That’ll sow ‘em!!

You know another thing that I’ve discovered?? I have a passion for surfboarding!! I discovered this talent quite by accident, really. We were at the beach [which, Taylor told me later, was a fake-beach in an amusement park] and I was splashing about in the water when this plank o’ wood came floating by and I thought to myself, ‘Feni, why don’t you step on that log like the little hillbillys in the movies??’ And so I did. AND SO I DID!!!

I was AMAZING on the waves. I could surf better than three fourths of the guys there. And I was the only one who survived the “Shaker Wave” which is programmed to occur once in two hours. Man, it’s huge, about thirty feet high, and the feeling that comes over you once you’ve tackled it can only be explained as euphoria.

We still have about four days left here and I am pleased as a pie. Wouldn’t it be sad if we were supposed to leave TOORROW?? If you think about it, it would be terribly wise of my foster-parents to allow us stay on here for the rest of our lives. What’s NOT to like?? All the rooms [even three of the bathrooms] are air conditioned, the scenery is breathtaking and there are so many places to visit, you could stay here for forty years and still have unexplored areas.

I think when I’m reincarnated as a human being, I’ll come live here. Only problem is, I have NO IDEA where we are, except for the fact that it has WAY good pizzas… Time to get googling!!