Dem Bones

Hiya Doggers,

Boy, am I lucky to have this gigantic bone to work on while my monkey is down South! He brought it home from the butcher (pronounced "bitcher" if you're Scottish) before he left, and since then I have spent most of my household hours gnawing on it! It has lots of marrow to lick, gungy stuff to chew, and best of all, if you stand at the top of the stairs and push on it with your nose, once it's clattered down to the bottom enough treats have rained out to feed an entire family (or one Gaffer)! This is HEAVEN.

Well I need something like this while my monkey is away, because as much as I love all the runs and hikes and beach days I have with Karen, between you and me she is simply not, to put it bluntly, focused enough on my every waking need. You see, the monkey and I have an understanding; he exists to serve me. When I nudge him when he's at his computer, or come up to him when he's doing anything at all, he knows he is supposed to drop everything and give me a scratch, or a tickle, or let me sit in his lap. Who cares that I am now pushing 60 lbs? We both know it is all about me.

Or when he's eating fruit salad on the couch every night, to use another good example. All I have to do is work my magic by sitting "side saddle" beside him (picture a dogger version of Marilyn Munroe, leaning in an almost coquettish fashion into the couch cushions, whimpering plaintively), and he responds by feeding me choice bits of chopped up banana from his personal spoon! More banana, Highness? Tee hee!

Or whenever he comes home, I can push him to the ground, jump on top of him, and lick him all over, leaving layers of saliva everywhere including all over his eyelids!!

You'd have to see it to believe it, dogs... it is truly a fantasy come true.

Now Karen on the other hand, clearly does not grasp that the world revolves around moi and only moi. Heaven forbid I should interrupt her from doing ANYthing she calls "important," or even THINK about jumping up on her, or the kitchen counter, or - gasp - the bed. Whenever I even contemplate any of these things, she gets all stern and pack leaderish and says "no" in a way that sounds kind of like a growl, like "Nnn-HOH!" Nothing really fun seems to be on her list of things the gaffer can indulge in, even just once. She even makes me eat only out of my dog dish! Who died and made her General Patton is all I can say.

Well, here's to the monkey's return! I'll be waiting with open paw and slimy, wet tongue!

Later,

The Gaffer