Monday, August 15, 2011

How to Dissect a Frog by Joey Ramone (Airedale)



It's easy, really. In fact, I didn't even set out to dissect this frog. Hard to believe but seeing, or scenting, is believing. But I digress. There I was having a fine time with this green frog and before I knew what had happened there I was passing Biology 101 with flying colors (mostly green, some purple). Now I realize that there's a little piece of stuffing coming out the head, but hell, for a first and unintential effort--NOT BAD!!! Quite good I'd say and I do.


On another note I'm still trying to get my own email from Google. Can't seem to get the wiggly letters right. And the other problem is that Frankie-dog who keeps unseating me from the computer chair. Now for the hard bit. I've got to get that picture of the frog-in-pieces into the post. I am learning, indeed I am.


Your good friend,


Joey Ramone (Airedale)








Monday, July 11, 2011

I Ate An Entire Tibetan Rug




Not all in one sitting, mind you, but in it's entirety just the same. Lip-smacking good, you know it! I'm putting up a picture of this sort-of-Airedale thing that's at our house. Seems like he's been here for a while now, and shouldn't he be leaving soon? That Person says his name is Joey Ramone. She also calls him Little Joey Man or Happy Joe. Will you just look at the size of those paws? Do I have something to be worried about, I ask you? That Person says he has a laid-back temperament. A laid-off temperament, I call it. He likes to be held ( A sure sign of weakness in a dog) and he comes when she calls him. Oh, really! He also pees and poops on the kitchen floor. She forgot to mention that! What could I do? I had to develop a special little tattle tale bark so as to point out all his misdeeds, and there are plenty of those, I assure you.(can you post sound on this blog? I know you all want to hear the new bark)




There's a butt-load of catching up to do here. Like--did you know I can catch a frisbee in the air? Have you heard that I was the star of my dog training class? I like to out-perform the other dogs because it makes That Person seethe, She, knowing how truly terrible I can be.




I saw my main man, Yaron! Twice! At the new dog park, Yaron was not very happy with me at one point. Can't quite remember what happened there. But of course that Joey-man was a perfect doll and all that, yak yak yak.




Well, for all of you who were hoping I was dead or something, I'm not. I couldn't get into the energy-activated software on the computer due to some re-arrangements in the house. Got it all figured out now so head for the hills (I wish I could) I am back.




Frankie T Wallace, the Airedale Criminal

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Well, That Person, What Can I say? Plenty!

Me and My Red Backpack
Who the devil knows what's been going on around here the last three weeks? That Person is just not right these days. Like She ever was? Suffice it to say there was a lot of this and that and mysterious doings. She's still down about it. But never mind about Her.

I am in all of my elements. I'm finally getting these really long walks every morning. And if you haven't seen me leash-walk, you're missing one of the key components of happiness. Perhaps the most important thing next to food, if you want my opinion.

Now, you know I am not one for sucking up the compliments, or looking to praise and fame for fulfilling my essential dog's nature. Oh no, not me. But how, I ask you, can I ignore the compliments that are constantly coming my way? I am surely the toast of Harvard Square, and anywhere else I've been seen lately. "That's the best dog I've ever seen," and, "That's the best trained dog in the world!" "Can I take her picture?" "May I approach her?" these last two when we've (meaning me) been seated. That Person is working the dickens out of me and don't I love it? We are walking in tandem, we two. I sit automatically at each curb. I am so focused. I am the Zen primal walker! After years of watching my man, Cesar Millan, She finally figured out that I actually do need the pack-walk every single day. Her wind was not what it should have been at first.We started out with only 45 minutes, felt more like seconds to a young and beautiful rambler such as myself. Now we're up to almost one and a half hours. Better, but God! I have listen to Her on on that phone everyday telling everything about Herself to whoever will listen. Believe me, that list keeps getting shorter and shorter by the day. Strangely, I do believe She's going to keep up these walks. Who wouldn't want to walk with me for an hour and a half. Now I hear Her talking about turning me into a 'Therapy Dog". Of what this consists I can only imagine with great trepidation. A new haircut? Will I still be an Airedale? What's the use of thinking about it before it happens, something That Person doesn't know how to do! So today's picture is of me on my lunch break over by the Beantown Coffee Shop. She got this huge cheese sandwich. I got some cut-up roast beef and had projectile diarrhea in the yard as soon as we got home. Alas, after that stunt I never got one of the meaty bones we bought at PetCo.

For next time I will overcome my dismay and work up the courage to talk about how That Person is playing--if you can call it that!--the guitar. Great walks, bad music. What a life! Where's Philip Glass when you need him?

And hey! Who's this Airedale called "Joe"? What's the use of trying to figure out everything I overhear?