Hi, it's Smokey here. My mom says that I get to write the blog today cuz it's my birfday. I'm four years old today. I'm a Big Boy and a Good Dog. I think I'm going to get some new toys today, . . . but Mom sez I can't have any waffles cuz they is bad for me.
Sometimes it iz hard to be a Good Dog. I want my mom to play with me lots more than she does. I want her to hold me on her lap and pet me and get rid of that stoopid laptop. The only good thing about it iz that I gets to blog sometimes. And that's how I got to know all of you. Did you all send me birfday cards? With treats in dem?
Oh, Mom just told me that it's "bad" to ask for presents. There are so many things to remember when you want to be a Good Dog.
I want to tell you a story. I think Mom told it once, but I want to tell my side. A long time ago I lived in a house with two other humans and four grown-up dogs and eight puppies. Three of the puppies was my siblings and five was my cousins. I had lots of playmates, but some of them were really bossy. I'm not very bossy, you know, and I sorta got overlooked a lot.
One day these two new humans came and looked at all of us. I heard the lady say somethin' to the man about how I wuz duh one whoze pitcher she looked at on teh Internet. She liked me best, but duh man wazn't so sure. But after playing out in duh yard for a while, duh man agreed that I had the sweetest personality of the whole mess of puppies. (I'm not bragging, just telling what they sed.)
I liked it that they paid 'tenshun to me cuz in that big pack, I wasn't used to being the center of 'tenshun. Then the dog breeder lady (I forgotted her name cuz she ain't my mom no more) said, "Let's all go in the house." Well, the grown up dogs went in first and the puppies scrambled in next. I was last, like always, cuz i was what the dog breeder lady called an "Omega puppy." (That's opposite of alpha. I was the mostest submissive in the pack.) I wuz last, and as I wuz goin' inside I worried that I wasn't going to see the nice lady who had fussed over me anymore. So I stopped right smack in the middle of the doorway and looked back at her and gave her a stare to say, "Iz you comin' or what?" So she came in the house, and the dog breeder lady said it was ok for her and duh man to 'dopt me only not till I wuz a little older.
And that's how Ruth and Michael became my mom and dad. Cuz I picked them and the dog breeder lady knew that I was smart and right and a Good Dog. (And I wuz. Just look how happy Mom is in the picture. Another lady took it that same day.)
Happy birfday to me.