What A Nice Pillow You Make, Stuffy Man!

Mom and I had a great walk yesterday. But boy did she wear me out! So I decided I would lay down for a spell with a blanket and Stuffy Man. He makes such a nice, soft pillow.

Zzzzz....

Just Hangin' Out

I am the king of squatting. I can make a home out of anything -- boxer shorts, towels, throw pillows, used napkins, half pairs of shoes, whatevs.

This little contraption above happened to make a very lovely doggie den for yours truly. It was just a mini blanket that Mom happened to leave over the back of a dining room chair. It was semi-dark and semi-covered -- great for napping!

No Mom, You Do Not Have a Future in Canine Fashions

Dear Dad,

While you were downstairs singing Disney songs (yes, I heard you through the floorboards), Mom wrestled me between her legs and yanked this monstrosity over my head. Then she coo'ed and clapped and just about crapped her pants with happiness because she thought I looked soooo cute in my hoodie.




Well it ain't cute. Bark Athletic? What is that? Like, Harvard for Hounds, MIT for Mutts, Princeton for Pups? No thanks! I very much prefer to remain illiterate and naked.

Anyway, I'm going to slink away for now, and hope that no one sees me in this ridiculous get up. When you've wrapped up your singing and flapping, dear Papa, could you please rescue your fuzzy son from this fleecy fashion faux pas.

Love and Milkbones,
Oscarman

Sleeping Beauty

Mom and Dad probably wanted to cry tears of joy when they woke up this morning and realized that I had slept through the night in my crate. I mean, I can hardly believe it myself!



I had a few freakout moments, I will admit. Right when they locked me up last night, I spent a good 30 minutes barking my lungs out. Then I realized what hard work that was, and how it was sooo not worth it. So I quit and went to sleep. If you can't beat em, join em, right?

I think it helped, too, that Mom and Dad took me for some nice long walks over the weekend. That sure tired me out. The walk I took with Mom was especially brisk when she realized that we were in the wrong side of the 'hood, walking next to some shady people.

She worries so much. I mean, what is there to worry about? She is with me after all, and though I'm short, I have a loud bark and a mean growl. I won't let no one mess with my mama! Grrrrr...ruff ruff!

Help Me Dad!

Dear Dad,

This is your favorite son writing to ask you to puh-lease come home. I know you've got work to do in California, but if you want to see me alive again, then you must return to the mother ship, like pronto.

In four separate instances today, mom knocked me in the noggin. Oh yeah, she got me good. This morning when she was getting her coat from the closet, she didn't see me when she turned around and ended up kicking me in the face. Then twice when I was snoozing on the floor today, she swung her feet down from the couch and stepped on my head. The fourth and final time came tonight when she went to take off my collar for the night and nearly stabbed my eye out.

Seriously, Dad, I don't know how you're not in the morgue yet. You are one incredible man for putting up with her day in and day out. I am not sure I'm so strong. I am one sucker punch away from dehabilitation.

If you have any love or mercy or tenderness in your heart, you will come home and save me.

Your fuzzy son,
Oscarman

Anywhere I Lay My Head

The other day I was feeling real tired, so I decided to pop a squat on Dad's boxer shorts. Mom turned her back, and so I snatched them out of the laundry basket. I patted the shorts a few times with my paws to get them into the perfect comfortable lump before plunking down. And then I had me a nice, long nap.

And yes, they were clean.