I complained to the Mom person about not being allowed on her laptop. She said I wasn’t allowed on it because I shed too much and she’s writing yet another paper for some certification she’s working on. (PLEASE–do not give her any other ideas about getting more certifications…whatever those are…I don’t get my head scratched nearly as much when she’s getting one.)

The only papers I have ever cared about were the ones they let me use when I was a pup. Even then, I was sequestered to the cold tile floors of the house. NOT my idea of fun. I used to pout about it, but it never seemed to get me released from paper-and-tile-land. They did let me on a warmer floor when they realized I had chewed all the furniture legs in paper-and-tile-land.

But, according to some other papers (According to the Mom person, these papers cost a lot of money and have something to do with a Kennel Association. I don’t get how dog kennels get together or even why they get together, but apparently these kennels have a lot to talk about.) I am about to have a rather monumental birthday.

 According to the mom person everyone, including me, has a birthday. I’m not exactly sure what a birthday is, but I know that it’s an actual day and that on mine, I get an extra big bone to chew. Thus, I have concluded that birthdays are a good thing. I just wish they happened more frequently.

The mom person also said that the older mom person is having a big birthday celebration today. For those of you who don’t know, the older mom person and her mate come to my home every time the weather gets really cold. She does a lot of the same things that the mom person does, but she does them slower.

I’m not sure why she does them slower, but my theory is that the more gray fur one has on his or her head, the slower that person moves. That must be because the gray fur weighs more. I’m pretty sure this is true, because I’m moving slower, too and the mom person says I have some gray fur as well. However, I’m not sure I always get the straight scoop from the mom person.

The gray fur must make your joints hurt. I don’t really like gray fur for that reason.

I don’t understand celebrations, but I know it means that there are lots of people show up and there are usually good table scraps at celebrations. Therefore, I am pro-celebration.

I really like the older mom person. She understands me.

If the mom or dad person are not around, she makes sure I get to go out whenever I want (Roughly 10 times a day is optimal.), and she makes sure I have food and water in my bowls. She sits for long periods of time and that allows for maximum head scratching and petting and one can never have too many head scratches or people stroking my fur.

She must sit more often because the gray fur is getting too heavy.

Since she seems to smile whenever I appear, I told the mom person that I should go to the big birthday celebration. I even told her I would bring my biggest bone as a present for her.

But the mom person said no. (By the way, I’m anti-no.)

I told her I could just get in her lab-sized suitcase, but she said she needed that space for her fur coverings. She sure needs a lot of fur coverings, too. Why do people need that many? I only need one. Mine works for every occasion, even for celebrations.

So, older mom person? If you’re reading this, Happy Big Birthday Celebration.

I’ll have to mail you the bone.

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The mom person wouldn’t let me on her laptop last week. She even took it with her while she was gone for a long time just to make sure I didn’t type anything on it.

I don’t know why. She’s just weird.

Because of her weirdness, I was forced to wait until now to tell you about my road trip in the thing with the round paws. We were in it for a really long time and the mom and dad person went with me. I had fun looking out the windows, but the mom and dad person wouldn’t open the top thing so I could put my head out and really survey everything.

Because of their lack of cooperation, I took a long nap out of sheer boredom. But a couple of times the mom and dad person gave me treats from a bag they got from people hanging out a window. Shhhh….don’t tell the animal doctor.