My least favorite thing about my people is that they are very busy. They seldom have time to give me sufficient head scratches and belly rubs. This is just not cool.

Now they seem preoccupied with someone new…a little Dad person. At least that’s what he looks like to me. He’s very short, has blonde hair, and blue eyes. The last time I saw him he was unable to do much, except sit on the floor or crawl on his hands and knees very slowly. He sleeps almost as much as I do. I can’t understand the gibberish often emanating from his mouth. He often holds things in his hand. Is he a band conductor or something?

When he gets unhappy, he makes an awful racket. I don’t know what he’s doing, but his version of barking is very distasteful to my ears. And my whole group of people go running to him when he does this. Why would you run toward that??? 

The Mom person and Dad person will play with him all freaking day. Don’t ask me why. They’re just weird. What could be more fascinating than me?

The Mom person and I do not exactly agree on my food. I will grant you that she buys me tasty food, but she and I don’t see eye to eye on the matter of how empty my bowl should be before she refills it. Doesn’t she know that it’s my food and thus, I should control when it gets refilled?

She maintains that it should be really empty–absolutely no food in the bowl, no matter how long and how stale it gets. I espouse the “sniff test method” and if I think it’s past its expiration date, I’m not eating it. Besides, the last few morsels are usually pretty difficult for me to get to, since the ornery little suckers move to the outside of my bowl where it’s hard for me to get my rather large, lumpy nose and mouth positioned so that I can eat it.

The mom person says you actually read what I write here. Don’t y’all have bones to chew?

Since you do read what I paw on this funny electrical contraption, today I want to talk about this funny wet stuff that sometimes shows up outside.

Outside is my favorite place in the whole world, usually. I get to bark at those winged invaders who keep stealing the dad’s person’s food. Of course, I question how bright he is for putting it in a container with holes in it! And that food doesn’t look all that great to me.

I also get to chase furry creatures with really long bushy tails who keep hiding in my trees. How dare they live in my trees! They keep stealing all of my pecans! They are there for me to chew up, thank you very much. I don’t remember giving them permission to do that!