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Moose's musings
Posted at 2:22 PM, Aug. 8, 2007
Yes, it’s me, Moose (sometimes known as Stoopid). I begged and I pleaded for another chance to be able to share my views. I promised that I’d spell everything real good-like and try to use proper English. So, here goes. It may take me a little longer, because apparently I’m not as “smart” as Gizmo, but I am definitely gaining on him in popularity. I got to go to Auntie Carol’s for a couple of weeks recently and was hounded (no pun intended) by numerous adoring fans. What with being chased by the ‘pawperazzi’ and bothered to constantly sign my ‘pawtograph’, I barely had time to get into any trouble. Ah, the life of a celebrity! I can only imagine what Paris Hilton’s fur baby must be going through right now.
I was thumbing (well, not really thumbing, since I don’t have thumbs) through some of Gizmo’s previous columns and thought I’d better comment on some things he’s told you. Shower Monsters don’t really exist. Oh, I’m sure in the deep, twisted recesses of his mind he believes, but I’m here to tell you, there ain’t no such thing. Near as I can tell, he might be slipp
ing a bit in the mental stability department.
ing a bit in the mental stability department. One thing that IS true: He’s fat! No bones about it. He’s not big-boned, short for his weight, thyroid challenged, or anything else but just plain porcine. I’m thinking it must have something to do with the extra nummies at Grandma’s house. I’ll be the first to admit that I have some extra love on my handles but at least I can go on really long walks. Gizmo is ready to have the female human go get the car after 1 or 2 blocks.
Another truth: I have pretty much stopped being destructo-dog. I mean, you can only chew so many shoes, dig so many holes, eat so many plants, pants and other various clothing items. I know it took me a while, but I started to realize that being called a good dog has many more rewards than being shipped off to Cesar the Dog Whispering guy. Why does he whisper anyway?
Anyway, I know my female human is just waiting for the other shoe to drop (or get chewed) but I’m SO over that stuff now. I really like the freedom (parole?) that being a good dog gets me. Even though I still get that yearning sometimes to go out in the backyard, dig a big hole and see what the relatives in China are up to, I’m doing my best to resist temptation. Maybe, just maybe, if I’m really good, the female human will let me use the computer to e-mail my Chinese relatives and I won’t have to desecrate the yard in order to stay in touch.
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