<object height="350" width="425" codebase="http://download.macromedia.com/pub/shockwave/cabs/flash/swflash.cab#version=6,0,40,0" classid="clsid:d27cdb6e-ae6d-11cf-96b8-444553540000"> <param name="src" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/6PIyiwCz3Zg" /><embed height="350" width="425" src="http://www.youtube.com/v/6PIyiwCz3Zg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash"></embed> </object>
Chewing on Brandon's foot is just a little something I've picked up in my spare time. I guess you could call it a hobby. Getting better at it everyday so . . .
I like to get in my crate. Sure it's from the days when I was a little baby and I don't need it anymore but you know what? I bet some of you still have your blankies or whatever. I'm just man enough to be upfront about the things from my childhood I still turn to for comfort.
Please Rachael get off of that stupid box you are always petting with your fingers and throw a ball! throw a sock! throw anything!!!
Hi Folks! It's been a really long time and I do apologize for that. A lot as changed. As you can see, I now can now give high fives to give you just one example of how much has gone down since I last wrote. You may also have notice my vocabulary has expanded. Well, that's because I'm over a year old now and am hardly a baby. Rachael still treats me like one though. She says stuff like, "Are you my little MUGWUMP?! WELL?! ARE YOU?!" and it's like, I get it, she loves me. But wtf do you say back to that you know? "YES I AM YOUR MUGWUMP!" I just cock my head to one side and look confused because it seems to me there are a lot of questions asked in this world that don't actually have answers. I believe they're called "rhetoric questions." SMART NOW.
Anywho. I live somewhere different now. It's north. It's near a lot of water. It's been hot here. Rachael works from home, Brandon wakes before I do and Rachael says she feels bad for him working "market hours" but it's good because he "brings home the bacon" but I've yet to see anyone eating bacon around here. That's all for now. I'll update more now that we appear to be not living among boxes anymore. BOW WOW.
I'm cured! I'm a nice puppy who plays with the other dogs!:
As for the rest of Thanksgiving, this basically summed up what these people do all day:
This morning we went to the vet to get my health certificate so I can fly on Wednesday (yeah that's right, I know days of the week now). Rachael and the doctor talked about the flight and used strange new words and phrases like, "medicate," "drugs," and "knock his ass out."
La la la.
You guys Rachael and Brandon stuck me in a big "crate" aka hell hole of doom this weekend especially at night thinking this way I'll hold my pee all night but THEY WERE WRONG. They even tried to entice me to love that tunnel of death with treats that smell like chicken. Anyway, this morning at 3 a.m. I really had to pee and I mean, i guess I could hold it til 6 a.m. when Rachael walks me but I thought, "nah." So I cried and stuff and Rachael was so dileriously tired that she didn't even notice she was standing outside our building in the dead of night in her weird Old Navy pants from college, a shirt with Otters on it, two different shoes and Brandon's giant red hat. I mean, don't tell her I said this, but she looked hilarious and seemed surprised to find herself outside once the cold set in. It was like she woke-up right when I finished peeing. She shoved me back in the crate when we got in and resumed snoring.
Today Rachael and Brandon teased me with the punching Rabbi. It was fun at first but then annoying. They quit when they decided taunting me with that thing could actually make me anti-semetic.