Book Review

Hey!  I read a book today.  It was sweet!  It was called Low Pressure.  I wasn't too interested in it at first.  It had been sitting on the edge of the bathtub for a few days, so I thought it might be a bit moldy.  And, heck, it sounded like it was about weather! 



This picture has nothing to do with the book, I'm just pretty.

But Rocky was bored today and decided to read it.  He was showing me some of the enticing parts and that whetted my appetite.  At first it was a little hard to get my teeth into it.  The cover wasn't very appetizing, but once I got a taste of chapter 1 it was quite palatable.  Pretty soon I was chewing through that book like it was a cookie.  Parts of it were really tasty and there was a tidbit here and there that I could really swallow, but in the middle it got a bit bland.  There were some points where I could skip entire courses and feel like I wasn't missing anything.  In fact, in the middle, I skipped almost 100 pages, they were so disagreeable!  But the end!  Wow!  That was delectable.  Rocky and I were fighting over the chance to get at that rich dessert.  I felt like a glutton as fast as we tore through the topping on the cake! 

I found the entire experience a little bit sticky around the edges, but all in all it really held some meat (and fiber).  I particularly enjoyed the bloody murder scenes, they seemed to really make my mouth water.  The sex scenes were really spicy!  And the twist was delectable.  I don't think mom was very happy we read the book before she did though.  I think we spoiled it for her.


biting

I've been living with mom and dad for a long time now.  They have taught me, over and over, that biting is bad.  I admit that I bite (nibble really) when I get scared, but not hard unless I am really pushed to the limit.  That hasn't happened since my first days with them.  Still, when I don't know somebody, I want to bite their feet.  I would like to explain why, but I don't even know.  I don't want to hurt them, I just want them to know that I have my eye on them.  So when we have visitors, mom and dad only let me visit after awhile.  Usually I get to come out during parties, which is great because there is always food on the ground and everyone pets me.  But almost always I find someone I don't trust totally.  So I watch them. Mom says that is guarding and not okay.  Once I know you though, I'm all good.

Something happened today that freaked everyone out though.  Well, it freaked me out a lot.  It freaked mom out a little.  Dad was cool with it though.  That is Soooo the opposite of how our life usually is.  But.... Rocky BIT someone.  He was really sorry afterwards.  But dad said he did exactly the right thing.  I AM SO CONFUSED. 

I  am really the only one who saw exactly what happened. Mom heard it, and sort of understands. A woman came to the front door with some boxes.  Rocky and I barked at her...furiously.  Because that is what we are supposed to do, right??!!  But mom and dad didn't come and she just opened the door and came in.  Right into our house!!  And Rocky bit her right in the butt.  Not a big bite.  Not a dog mauling, I'm going to kill you bite.  Just a little pinch in the butt to tell her it wasn't ok for her to be in our house without mom or dad or somebody they knew to say ok.

She came back a little bit later with her boss.  They seemed to be really nice, but mom doesn't trust them.  They talked to the neighbors which mom says is bad because they are already scared of me and now they will be scared of Rocky.  Dad says too bad.  We are always good and on leashes or in our own yard.  Other dogs in the neighborhood run free.  He also says Rocky is a good dog because if someone walks in our house without mom or dad there to say it is ok, then they should be bit.   I have a lot to think about now.  I thought I knew the rules, but I'm not so sure now.  This person shouldn't have been bitten, but she shouldn't have come in the house.  She didn't mean to hurt anyone, but how is a dog to know???

Dad says a dog doesn't have to know.  If someone comes in without a family member's permission to bite first and ask questions later.  Mom says that is probably right, because we have the right to protect our house and our mom.  And mom will sleep good at night when dad is on his long trips.

Don't judge

Football season is cool. I get to wear people clothes almost every Sunday.  I love people clothes. Some people think that is strange.  Some people think tansvestites are strange. Those people are dumb.  They can't see that other people or dog preferences have nothing to do with them.  Sure children and animals need protected from bad people, but grown ups like me should not be judged for our choices as long as we don't hurt others.  

So I get to wear football clothes on Sundays.  Dad says it is good luck, but so far it isn't working for our Steelers.  I'm trying.  Sometimes I get compared to Bear.  That hurts my heart.  Apparently when Bear wore the Steelers clothes, it worked.  Plus Bear didn't have issues and everyone loved him.  But I'm a good dog too.  bear was so lucky.  He got to live with mom from when he was a baby.  I had a rough puppyhood.  But I love mom sooo much. It's just hard not to get jealous of Rocky sometimes, although he always listens to what I tell him to do.  I have to scare him a little, but I'm older so that is only fair, especially since he is bigger than me.  Rocky doesn't like clothes much, but he doesn't hold it against me that I do. And he dies like to play football like me. 

Kitty is another story.  She is judgmental.  Sure, I bit her face off once.  But she survived.  Now she loves up on me all the time.  But she judges me for liking clothes AND she gets to sit on mom's lap a lot. 

Halloween is weird and scary

Wow,  first mom and dad left with the suitcases, then Sam came over (we love Sam).  And then it started getting dark most of the time.  And something called Halloween happened.  I have no idea what it is all about but suddenly everyone became ugly or slutty.  No in between.  Even the little kids became weird looking.  I thought about that show mom watches about the zombies, but it didn't seem like a zombie attack.  Nobody was getting eaten.  Still, I didn't like it. I hope it doesn't happen again.

The big news though is that Rocky isn't having to stay in his box any more.  Mom says it is an experiment.  We only get to stay in the front rooms, so no couch laying and more importantly, I can't spend all day in bed which I don't appreciate at all, but we have our toys and our little 'dog' beds out there and we get to play if we want to.  So its cool. I hope Rocky passes the experiment test and maybe we'll get to sleep all day in bed again. 

Mom and dad are home, and that's cool, but we miss Sam.  Mom has been busy and doesn't want to play or walk right now.   She seems a bit down.  Plus she has night school.  And it gets dark too early.  These are all the things she keeps saying.  But she said we might be able to go to the park on Sunday if we are good.  She said Miley would like the park and Rocky could go to the dogpark for awhile.  I wish there was a lure course.  But a nice walk is good enough for me.

Here is a picture of the cat looking all Halloween like:

Suitcases!

I AM NOT HAPPY. the suitcases are out and my bed has been moved to the front room.  I haven't seen Dave for ages.  I'm pretty sure we're being abandoned.  And the cat, the cat doesn't even seem to care!   Of course she just comes and goes as she pleases.  Why would she care?   She doesn't love mommy like I do.  Rocky cares.   Dogs are smarter than cats. Even dumb dogs like Rocky. 

Babies

Babies! I don't know nothing bought no babies.  Rocky seems to like them, but he is such a clutz, he's always knocking them down.  Well, I shouldn't say them, really there is just one for now.  Miley, they call her.  But there more coming...rocky knows...don't know how, but he says Haylee is on the way.  Mostly I just ignore Miley.  But she doesn't want to ignore me!   She'd sure like to ignore rocky though.  She knows my name and chases me around if I'm actually allowed in the room.  I admit, she makes me nervous.  When I'm in the room mom or dad almost always has a hand on me to keep me calm.  They say I have to learn, but in quiet they say I have to be watched. They are right, of course.  I'm glad to be allowed out when Miley us here, but I havent figured her out yet.  She runs around on her toes, cries, babbles, and smells funny....but she knows my name and seems happy to see me.   I have to think about this.   

I'm not lazy

Hi everybody.  I saw on mom’s facebook that some of you miss me J.  Ruff!  I also saw that she called me fat and lazy…now whose fault might that be?  And I am not ADDICTED to Candy Crush!  It just gives me something to do when nobody will take us for a walk or throw ducks for us.  This week mom got up a couple times in the morning and we got to walk around the short side of the block.  A mile plus a little.  Sadly that felt like a long way to both of us.  We are a little out of shape, but that doesn’t make us lazy. 

It’s just that whole morning thing that is tough.  First, I sleep in my own bed all night til dad gets up about 530.  Then I FINALLY get to get in the bed and it is sooo comfy.  Why should I be in a hurry to get up.  Rocky tries to get mom up.  Since he doesn’t get on the bed, he doesn’t get the deliciousness of just lying there wrapped in the blankies.  So mom and I don’t want to get up.  So what? 

Dad is still getting up at 530 this week even though something is going on with the government that has caused a fur low.  I wasn’t too worried about it until I heard a rumor that he wasn’t going to get paid for going to work.  Then I thought, well, that sucks, he should just stay home with us if they aren’t going to pay him.  But I guess that has been worked out and our kibble is safe, so he better keep going to work.  Seems like those government guys just like to get on TV and argue a lot, but they don’t really make much sense. 

Well, that’s it for now.  Oh, yea, one last thing…that deal about Rocky speaking Whale and Horse and being bilingual and all is just BS.  He has a speech impediment, but he only speaks dog.  And he speaks way to much if you ask me.

Confession

I have a confession to make.  It is a little bit embarrassing.  I'm a big adult healthy dog with very sharp teeth (even my vet complimented them).  But I am afraid of the dark.  When mom lets us out at night before bed, I always hope she waits by the people door for me to let me back in.  If she doesn't I have to walk around to the other corner of the house to come in through my "doggy" door (what a dumb name for a door).  But it is very dark over there.  I don't like it!  There are trees and flowers around the path to the doggy door and anything could be hiding in there.  Snakes, lizards, armadillos....

Usually I manage to 'dog up' and come around to the house, but last night, even though I could hear mom calling me, I just couldn't bring myself to do it.  I stood by the people door and waited and waited.  I heard dad say, just leave her out there, she'll come in when she is ready and I worried I might be outside all night.  But luckily mom looked out the window and saw me by the door.  She let me in.  She loves me sooooo much.  I'll try to be braver next time.

The Purple Bear

I loved stuffed animal toys!!!!  Love love love them!  Especially the ones with the squeakers in the middle.  I'm pretty good at killing them too.  I can get that squeaker out and kill it in just a minute or two most of the time.  Even those super cool toys with lots and lots of squeakers don't last long.  I can eat them up in an hour or so.  It is my favorite thing to do. 

But I don't know why mom won't bring me home any new stuffed toys.  I get bones and hard rubbery things sometimes.  It takes me a long time to kill a hard rubbery thing.  Sometimes almost a whole day.  Bones are ok for chewing, but they aren't much fun for playing.  I'm kind of used to not getting good toys, but then the worst unfairness ever happened.

Mom brought home a purple stuffed bear for Rocky.  And ONLY Rocky gets to play with it.  It is totally unfair.  She puts it away most of the time, and gets it out only when Rocky gets to go into his crate.  Then she locks it in the crate with him.  It is so stupid and unfair.  He doesn't even know how to play with it.  He just nibbles at it and snuggles with it, like it is his friend or something.  I bet he doesn't even know that there is a squeaker hidden in that big fat purple tummy. 

I've tried to pull it out through the bars, but no luck so far.  I've even tried to open the crate.  I think I know how to do it, but so far it isn't happening.  I rush in as soon as mom opens the crate and grab it, but she always makes me put it down.  Why, Why?  Doesn't she want to torture me?  Doesn't she love me any more?  It is pure agony to see Rocky waste that bear's potential.  Pure agony.

See how good I am at it???

Rocky is My Goat!!!

I just found this out and I am dumbfounded!  Rocky is a goat.  Not just any goat; MY goat!  I am so very, very confused by this.  I have a world champion level nose.  I know goat smell and Rocky doesn't have it.  He just smells like regular dog...maybe a little dumber than average, but pretty much a normal dog.  But mom says he is a goat and mom doesn't lie.  I'm even more confused as to why he is MY goat.  I never asked for a goat (or a dog for that matter).  Why would I want a goat?  So why would he be MY goat? 

Not only all of that is confusing, but mom says he is a special breed of goat too!  Mom says he is my Scape goat.  Or maybe it is Escape goat.  I'm not sure what either of those are.  I did a good search and couldn't find either breed of goat.  I did google goggles on a picture of him and it just said dog, not goat.  Maybe mom is wrong???  But mom is never wrong! 

OMG!  Maybe I'm really a Rabbit!

It all started on the day I ate the Sriracha beef jerky.  Mom said she knew I did it because Rocky was in his crate, so I couldn't blame it on my Escape goat.  I was so confused.  Then when I ate the coconut oil, mom caught me and said again I couldn't blame it on my Escape goat.  But yesterday when dad came out with a chewed up toothbrush and asked who should be blamed, she said well you might as well blame Rocky, he's Resi's Escape goat. 

So she seems pretty sure about it.  I guess I'll start treating him more goat-like.  I should see the vet about getting my nose recalibrated.

Giant Water Bowls

Wowsy! I haven’t gotten on the computer for a long time! First we had visitors and then mom and dad got sick and never left the house. I am so behind on my internet surfing! But since I couldn’t do that I found a new kind of surfing to do. Mom says it is called ‘counter surfing’ and it means getting fantastic snacks off of the kitchen counter. I know I am not supposed to do it, but hey, have you ever had Siracha flavored beef jerky? It is spicy and delicious and when that smell is tempting me, well, what’s a girl to do?

Lots of things have happened since I wrote last. I got to swim for ducks one day; that was fun. Oh, and I learned what ‘sick’ means. I thought it just meant that you stayed at home and laid around on the couch all day…that didn’t seem too bad. But the other day mom left a jar of coconut oil on the edge of the bathtub and I ate it! It was delicious (not as good as the beef jerky)! Then later I got a huge tummy ache and threw up. It was all oily and greasy, so I couldn’t even eat it back up. The next day, all I wanted to do was lay around on the couch, so now I understand what sick is.

And Rocky, he’s doing ok. He eats my ducks though. I’m not sure why I go to all the trouble to save them from drowning if he is just going to chew their heads off. But he taught me something I didn’t know before. We have three giant water bowls in the house that always have fresh water in them! Sometimes the lids are closed on them, but usually at least one of them is open. I have to stretch a little to reach, but hey, I’m running with the big dogs now!

So in exchange for that 411, I am now letting Rocky get on the bed with me. Not when mom is in the bed or anything. But if it is just the two of us, I let him. Sometimes we play up there, but mom yells about that so usually I just take one end of the bed and he gets the other. I’m not ready for spooning with him in the bed yet (but its ok on the living room floor).

It’s time for dad to get home from work, so I’m heading back to the bedroom to lay down and look innocent. I know he would blame the lost jerky on Rocky, but since he’s been in his crate today…well, hopefully he won’t notice.

Tall dogs rock

I think I’m starting to like Rocky a little bit more. He has grown several inches since he came to live with us and he can reach things I could never reach. This morning he scored us some sweet potatoes and Brussels sprouts for breakfast. Delicious (but I’m feeling a little bit gassy now). Sometimes he gets us things to play with off the top of the counter in the bathroom. And a couple of days ago he got us a great hat to tear up from Dad’s dresser. Plus he always shares. I’m not so good at sharing.

Are Pit Bulls Dangerous?

I was surfing the internet the other day and came across an article that seemed a bit unfair to me. It was titled ‘Are Pit Bulls Dangerous?’ and it cited a bunch of statistics that seem to indicate that we are. 51% of hospitalized dog bites are Pit Bull Bites! 2/3 of all bites are Pit Bull and Rotty! OH MY! Hmmm. SCARY! Here is a link to the article. http://news.yahoo.com/pit-bulls-really-dangerous-235410097.html

This is scary stuff. After reading this, I wouldn’t even own me! But wait, what is this little section buried down here in the middle?

A 2006 study from the Journal of Interpersonal Violence revealed that owners of vicious dogs were significantly more likely to have criminal convictions for aggressive crimes, drugs, alcohol, domestic violence, crimes involving children and firearms.
These findings were confirmed in a 2009 report published in the Journal of Forensic Sciences. The authors of that report wrote, "Vicious dog owners reported significantly more criminal behaviors than other dog owners," and they were ranked "higher in sensation seeking and primary psychopathy."

And a 2011 study, also in the Journal of Forensic Sciences, found that "vicious dog owners reported significantly higher criminal thinking, entitlement, sentimentality and super-optimism tendencies. Vicious dog owners were arrested, engaged in physical fights, and used marijuana significantly more than other dog owners."

Using my critical thinking skills, and I know I’m just a dog, but doesn’t this seem to imply that it is the dog owners who are dangerous? And since dogs like to please their owners, wouldn’t any dog owned by one of these owners likely be dangerous? And, I’m stretching here, but since the media keeps unfairly labeling Pit Bulls (and Rotty’s and German Shepherds) as “Vicious”, wouldn’t those high risk people really prefer to own one of those breeds? Doesn’t our Coolness Factor increase every time one of these stories is published like it is real news??? I mean, I don’t get out much, but even on TV you don’t see the bad guys out walking their guard Poodles very often. Heck, I’m a perfect example. I was owned (and beaten) by a drug dealer with a criminal record who ended up getting shot in a drive by shooting. Why do you suppose he chose me instead of a Yorkshire Terrier?

So yeah, if you are out walking in a bad part of town and a Pit Bull (or a Chihuahua) comes rushing at you…well, you might want to get out of the way. That is just common sense, right? But the labeling of an entire breed is what I truly find scary. What if statistics were used this way on people? And published as news? Who would be labeled as dangerous? What Race? Which Gender? Would neighborhood homeowner associations be allowed to use these statistics to ban certain “types” of people from purchasing a home? What about living in Army housing, as reported in this article, would certain soldiers be banished? Would homeowners insurance cost more for my non-white neighbor than it does for my mommy? How about my single neighbor? My male neighbor?

People have laws to protect the individual person from discrimination based on stereotypes and even statistics. It is recognized by intelligent people that an individual person is, well, individual, rather than part of a whole based on race, religion, gender, etc. And for those ignorant individuals who do not recognize this, the law is there to enforce equal protections and rights. Who is standing up for the individual dog?

Lure course

I have a new favorite thing! It is called a Lure Course. We went last weekend and it was AHMAAZING! First we got to go for a car ride. Me and Rocky both at the same time and that hardly ever happens. Then we got to the park and got to walk around and sniff lots of things. Not like our normal walk where we walk fast for exercise; this time we were allowed to go slow and sniff everything. And there were SOOOO many dogs. Lots of them were catching Frisbee’s. I would like to do that.

Then we got to do the Lure Course. I went first because I’m the smartest, so Rocky could watch. Mom took off my leash and there was a blue thing and a white thing on the ground moving around really fast. I tried really hard to catch it, but it moved too fast. Then it was Rocky’s turn. He just didn’t get it. He was scared of the thing that was moving around so he ran over to the fence to look for me. I was excited to try again, but we had to wait awhile.

The next time they let Rocky run with me. That was better for him and it didn’t bother me any. I chased the blue and white thing; he chased me. It was fun. I hope we get to go again.

Here is Rocky and I running together.

The New Couch Sucks!

Back before Christmas, we got a new couch.  I was pretty excited hearing about how it would have room for more people to sit down and be more comfortable.  Nobody told me that it was a 'no dogs allowed' couch.  Apparently the old couch was leather and this new couch is something that attracts dog hair.  I don't see a problem with that.  I, personally, am covered in dog hair and I think that is just fine.  In fairness, the cat isn't allowed either.  But she gets a chair covered by a blanket to sleep on. 

Instead of telling you how this has changed my life, though, I thought I would show you pictures: 

Our life with the old couch.
 

Our life with the new couch.

Rocky with the old couch.

Rocky with the new couch.

Me with the old couch.

Me with the new couch.

Grama Visiting with the old couch.

Grama visiting with the new couch.
 

So do you see what I mean?  The new couch sucks.  I hate it and want to chew it to pieces.

Resi

Rocky

Sometimes I wonder about Rocky's past. We dogs can't really talk about about things like that between ourselves. We can communicate, but only about stuff that is happening right now. I watch him though and I think that his life before here wasn't very happy either. I doubt it was as violent as my past, because he is still pretty and perfect. No scars. But he does some funny stuff that tells me he had a tough time.

Mom says he was considered unadoptable because he was 'nervous'. He is a nervous nilly, that's for sure, but he is getting more confident every day. And he is very gentle with people, so I don't know why that would make him a bad pet.

He is jumpy like a horse. He startles when things surprise him...good thing nobody is riding him. And if someone, anyone, big or small, puts their hand over his head to pet him, even really slow, he cowers down like someone is hitting him. He tucks his tail when he is unsure of the people around him. When a lot people are around, he stays by mom. Of course he always stays by mom, so that's nothing new.

So I don't know, what happened to him to make him so nervous, but I'm glad he is doing better. Maybe he isn't so dumb, maybe he just doesn't know much yet. I heard mom say that he was in the shelter for a long time. I never spent much time in the shelter, I had a foster family after I healed up. So I don't know what life must be like in the pen, but I'm guessing he didn't have much chance to learn about the world.

Breedism

I am a victim of Breedism. It is just like Racism, except with dogs. I never even knew it. Mommy keeps me from seeing it most of the time. I don’t even know what a Pit Bull is, really. I always just thought it meant super cute, super smart dog with an extra wiggly tail and a big smile. But no! Apparently Pit Bulls are scary dogs! I can’t figure it out. I don’t try to be scary. I smile all the time.

Mom said in some places there are laws against owning ‘Pit Bull Type’ dogs or dogs even mixed with Staffordshire terrier (which, I think, also means Pit Bull). Dad says I’m not a Pit Bull. He says I’m way too small to be a Pit Bull. Mom says I probably have some in me because I have a bully smile. They don’t agree about this. Dad says I’m a Black Mouth Cur. Rocky is part Black Mouth Cur, so I’m not sure that could be true. Seems to me like Black Mouth Curs are pretty dumb.

Mom says the lady next door is scared of me because she is scared of Pit Bulls. That makes me feel even worse for biting her dog. I didn’t know. I like her fine. Just her dog coming in my yard was annoying me. Lots of times people cross the street when we are walking past them. I didn’t think anything of it, but now I wonder if they are scared of me too. Hardly anybody ever asks if they can pet me, but Rocky gets petted by strangers all the time.

I found out about breedism because when we were walking yesterday, we passed a family with children. Rocky LOVES children, so he pulled towards them (which he KNOWS is baddog). Mom let the children pet Rocky and I sat nicely behind mom waiting for our walk to continue. I don’t care about being petted by children. Then one of the children took a few steps towards me and her mom made such a terrible, scared face! My mom told the little girl, that it was better not to pet me, because I am scared of some people. And the little girls mom, fell all over herself to pull her little girl back. She tried not to let it show. Then she asked mom, with a very strange look on her face, like she had eaten something bad out of the kitty litter box, if I was a Pit Bull.

Mom explained that I was probably part Pit Bull, but that I had been abused as a puppy, so people scared me sometimes. Then the woman was nicer, because she doesn’t think dogs should be abused. Even Pit Bulls.

But when we passed them again, they crossed the street.

See how big I smile???? 

Work from home

I am soooooo confused. Friday mom said she was going to work from home. I was pretty excited to see what this work is all about, but it was no fun at all. All mom did was sit at her computer. For hours!!!! It wasn't very much different from 'home sick'. I still have no idea what is so great about going to work, but it must be completely different than working from home.

Here is a picture of what Rocky looks like during work from home.

Work

Work must be a super cool place.  Mom and Dad go there almost every day, so it must be really wonderful.  I'm guessing there are big computers and games and lots and lots of treats.  Maybe big fields to run around in.  I don't even know!  I wonder why dogs aren't allowed. 

Mom dresses up to go, so it might be too fancy for dogs.  Dad leaves really early to go, so it must be extra good for boys since he gives up a lot of sleep to go so early.  I wish I could go just once to see what it was like.  Then when we are home alone I could picture them at work and know where they are and it wouldn't be so scary. 

Reward

All is well. Mommy and dad are home. They were gone soooooo long, but we weren't alone. Dave stayed with us. We love Dave. Everything is back to normal now. We helped dad clean the house and hung out in the garage with him. We practiced 'wait' when mom got home. We got chicken for snacks.

We even got to go for a resolution today. Life is good.

Alone FOREEEVVVVEEEERRRRR

Mom left with a big suitcase and passports.

She's never coming back. Ever. I just know it!!!!! I'm allll alone!!!!! Forever!!!!!

Help me please!!!!

Send kibble!

Here is a picture of my mom....if you find her, bring her home. REWARD!

its rocky

hi its me  rocky.  resi and mum ar sleping by the pul.  resi tinks im so dum i cant evun red.  im not that dum.  i can red.  sure she smartr then me.  she real smart.  but im smart to.  is ok tho.  i don mind wut she tinks.  shes gud to me.   she plaz with me and stuff.  not as much as id like, but shes old and kinda chubby sos i get it.  she gits up on the bed to.  but not me.  im not aposed to, so i dont and she wudnt let me no how.  she gits to go lose in the car house to, but i wates by the door like a guddog. 

shucks, she aint gittin nutin over on me with this her bloggin stuff.  don't ya'll worry that my feelins gittin hert or nutin.   i no her.  she luvs me sumpin much.  she taut me lots.  sur sumtimes she tells me thinks to chu up are ok n i find out later she was foolin me.  but mostly thats al jus gud fun.

gotta go, shes astrechin her bones. 

ps i don talk funny but i do talk mor'n she do.  jus bein frendly.

rocky

dis wen resi sed books ar gud fun.  books ar truble.  im sum purty tho.

Mom's Sick

OMG!  (I don't even know what that means, but it seems appropriate.)  Mom is sick.  The only thing worse than mom going off to work everyday leaving me to sleep the day away while the "Rockstar" sleeps in his crate, is mom being home sick.  It is pathetic.  Seriously.  When she was first home, I was like, 'cool, mom's home.'  But then it turned out all she wanted to do was sit and read her iPad or a book or nap on the couch (ONTHECOUCH) and cough a lot.  First, the coughing interupted MY napping and the napping (ONTHECOUCH) means I can't get anywhere near a computer.  So my day when from pleasant naps and internet surfing to crappy naps and ... nothing! 

And Rocky...that little brown-noser... has to follow her all over the house as if she might get lost when she gets up to take a pee.  Right there at her hip, trotting along with her, making me look bad because I don't get out of the bed.  I know he does it on purpose. 

And our walks, which is obviously the same thing as a Resolution, came to a screeching halt.  Now the best we get is to sit outside in the garage while dad works out or layout by the pool during the day.  Rocky runs around the house like a maniac, going this way and that, thinking he is all cute because mom laughs at him.  So childish.  He doesn't even notice that making her laugh makes her cough more.  Dumb dog. 

She says she is going to work tomorrow no matter what.  I hope so.  This is sheer hell.  Mom needs to get it together so we can go on more resolutions and I can have my days at the computer back.  Uh oh...here she comes.....

It's been a long week....