Wednesday, April 28, 2010

There's Just No End To It, Is There?

Scentless Buddha
That Person is watching something about a Swedish detective--Wallender or whatever, which is weird because she already read all the books. I thought I'd take this chance to complain. Don't get me wrong--I have a very sunny disposition, really I do. Anyway a few days ago a bunch of Persons from this building got themselves out into what was a perfectly fine yard and began to do horrible things to it. It's called "fixing up the yard". All those lovely patches of mud, gone! Instead there are cedar chips everywhere around the edges and I can tell you they make you awfully sick after you eat enough of them. I'm not allowed in the middle of the yard because of "the grass". Birds and squirrels are allowed, yes. NO AIREDALES!

But I digress: the picture here is something That Person apparently paid good money for. Let me tell you, I was terrified. It sits there chuckling at me, and again, no scent. How much of this world is made up of totally fake stuff? I am so depressed I can hardly bring myself to poop out there anymore. That Person gets all bent out when I take forever in the morning before she's had that beverage. Then she starts going on and on about how when she has to go she just goes and how she doesn't need to eat a pound of cedar chips first (all this is taking place inside her head--but I can hear it). Speaking of those wood chips, I don't really eat all that much. Sometimes I get to gagging and hurking about in the kitchen so she thinks it's all my fault. I think it's that same old food she gives me everyday, except sometimes when there's cottage cheese.

Well, thanks for listening. She's all engrossed in Wallender. She likes the way it was filmed (I wouldn't know about that) and how great the soundtrack is (not a bad soundtrack: reminds a bit of Philip Glass my favorite) and how Kenneth Branagh is all that.

Monday, April 26, 2010

When A Dog is Betrayed

On my Frankie T Wallace Profile Page, I wrote, quite masterfully, I thought, of the role of scent in a dog's life vs the use of words by Those People. However, once in a while a mysterious situation arises. It is that kind of situation that I wish to address here. In the picture, upper left, you will see a picture of a perfectly fine looking beagle. Fine looking I say, not fine smelling, nay, not smelling at all. And soundless to boot. All in all a seemingly fine figure of a beagle. Perhaps too fine a figure, for it would come to pass that this is, verily naught but a figure of a beagle.  And to that I say: "go figure!" I came upon this fellow, or rather, this object quite by chance upon the bed of That Person yesterday afternoon. I at once commenced upon barking and carvorting about in my usual way. That Person held up said beagle in such a way as to allow me to get a good scent in the hind quarters. I was stunned. There was no scent at all where all those ripe glands would  normally reside to tell me all I needed to know about this "beagle". But Let me say for the sake of precision in reporting that there wasn't exactly no scent at all, but rather something worse-- a synthetic scent, some man-made concotion.--and where there should have been flesh there was merely cloth. Of course this did not quiet me down for a moment. My frantic barking transmogrified from perfectly normal dog-in-the-area alert noises into weird-thing-in the area notifications. Suddenly the phantom doggish thing was whipped out of my sight and not seen again. I did manage to get a quick snapshot of the offender on That Person's cell phone.

Thursday, April 22, 2010

I Was So Humiliated

Get this!. Today! We're on our way to the dog park, in that car of hers when I see another dog in the car next to us at the stop light. Naturally I start up barking in that crazy way I have of putting another dog on notice that I'm here. The person driving the other car turns to take a look--strangely her dog seems to disappear at this point. Sure, I'm confused but I keep on a barking. That person rolls down the window and tells the other driver that I think her ponytail is another dog! Not only don't I know what this means, but the other driver starts laughing. The light changes and both cars drive away, both drivers laughing. Here I am in the picture above, stewing in my own humiliation, still ignorant of what happened earlier.

What is a "ponytail" anyway?