I Party Like a Rock Star

All better, yes, indeedy! I'm back in fighting form, bright-eyed and bushy tailed and ready to rumble. Even with Rufus, the awful pit bull upstairs, who by the way still really annoys me (and I'm willing to admit scares me) with his loud bark and incessant taunting.

Owner and I have taken to going on long morning walks at a nearby park that surrounds a lake. I am in pure heaven. There are so many exciting things to scope out--from lots of squirrels to ducks and geese. I have a sneaking suspicion that I might even be able to find some badgers. God, that would be fantastic.

I roam all around the grass (albeit still on leash--Owner never, ever lets me off leash). It feels wonderful. This morning Owner seems like she's in a particular hurry, though. She's tugging on me a little more and exhorting me to speed things up. Geez, doesn't she know about smelling the roses?!

We make it back home and Owner rushes through breakfast and getting cleaned up. And then she pulls out a big red bag and starts to pack up a bunch of stuff, including her bright, shiny object. With a quizzical look, she glances my way then heads out the front door. This doesn't bode well. Where is she going?! Sure, she'll go off for a bit, here and there. But there was something in her demeanor when she left this time that suggests she's going to be gone for a while. I don't know whether to be afraid or throw a party.

After sulking on the sofa for a while, I decide to make the best of it. If Owner is cruel enough to leave me alone for an extended period, then I will exact revenge. Let's see...oh yes, the bag of trash in the kitchen. I remember my previous owners hated it when I dug into it. I bring the bag down and then do a good job strewing the garbage around. Ha! Take that, Owner.

Then I go into the bedroom and pull down the comforter. No easy task, because it's quite heavy. After that difficult chore, I make my way to her bathroom and unspool the toilet paper. I do the same thing in the second bathroom. But I need some sort of grand finale. Something that will really get Owner. I manage to overturn the small rug in the front hall. And proceed to pee and poop.

I perch myself on the sofa and survey the damage. Nice job, I think. I'm feeling tired--destruction is hard work.Time for a nap.

Poor Puppy -- I'm Sick and So Is Owner's Bright Object

Ugh, what the hell did I eat? My stomach feels like crap. It must have been that weird-smelling brown thing on the sidewalk that Owner told me not to eat earlier this morning while we were on our walk. I pace around the home as Owner looks at me intently and drinks her warm beverage. Suddenly, rather gracefully, if I do say so myself, I vomit onto the white carpet. Owner jumps up and rushes around to clean it up. I would normally be upset that I made a mess on Owner's carpet, but honestly, I don't care at this point.

Then I plop on the carpet in defeat. When will I learn not to eat strange stuff? I start to drift off to sleep. I begin dreaming about Max, my friend from the shelter. He was just so much fun, so kind. He would have cheered me up. I think back to the fun times we had playing in the yard at the shelter. So many great games with balls and Frisbees.

I wonder where he is now. Maybe he hit pay dirt and got some owners with a big back yard and lots of squirrels to chase and no kids. That's the ideal scenario we all want.

I wake up and puke again. Owner looks up. I sense she's not doing well either. Something's going on with her Bright Object that she's always pounding her paws onto. She's shaking the machine and pushing the buttons on it furiously.

She comes and cleans up the new mess and looks very concerned. We go sit on the sofa, and she pets me in a kind, gentle way. We sit that way for a long time. It's not a good day for either of us.

I fall back asleep and dream of hunting for badgers.

I Get Some Much Needed Training and a Possible Boyfriend

Jesus H. Christ. Poor owner. She's wearing some sort of rubber thing around her knee and walking around our home slowly. Poor owner. Poor me.

I try to smooth things over from our disastrous hike by looking up at her in a terribly cute way with my big brown eyes. We sit on the sofa as she's drinking her coffee as if to say, "It's OK, I know you didn't mean to make me fall." I guess everything's going to be fine after all. But still, I feel badly.

A couple of days later, Owner and I head outside and meet someone in the place near our home where humans park their moving contraptions. This person really seems to be into petting me. And she smells like other dogs. For the next little while, this person and Owner take turns holding the leash and giving me treats. I get the point pretty quickly--if I behave, I get treats. I'm not stupid--plus my previous owners did the same thing. I decide to play along to amuse Owner, but after a while, I don't even  think about it too much. It seems pretty easy. Plus, Owner is still limping around, so I feel like I owe it to her to be good.

The other human leaves, and Owner and I practice some more. As we're working on a patch of grass near our place, I see a dog from afar. Normally Owner freaks out and tightens her grip on the leash, but this time, maybe because I'm taking it easy (see, the training really did pay off), Owner is calmer as well. We walk over to the other human, whom Owner seems to know, and the dog. He's a little Chihuahua, and he tells me his name is Sam. We check each other out. "Don't get too close, or I might just fall in love," he says. Ugh. Males will say anything. I miss Max--his banter was always classier than the rest. Still, this might be fun. Sam and his minder head back to their -- wow--they only live next door!

Sam might not be so bad after all.