Our Beloved Gatsby
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was really a bad boy tonight when
mommy had "company" – whatever that
means. for me, when she serves a
tapas dinner, it's the worst.
everything is just at my height and
it's all carbs - which I love. even
the shrimp that should really be for
cats is VERY tempting.
so apparently i never gave them a
moment's peace. they kept putting me
in my cage and i kept jumping
up and threatening to jump OUT and
yelping and generally being a
nuisance. they don't really help
because they are so grateful that i
am still around that they indulge me
(whatever that means).
anyway, all you dogs out there, dog
forbid that you are ever sick, but
if you are, when you are all better,
be sure to take them for all you can
- new toys, TONS of cookies,
and total leniency - whatever that
i'm 16 and a half, they say, and i'll
tell you one thing - last week was the
closest call i hardly never had
before. here's what happened.
this real cute couple came walking by
our house in niagara with this real
cute red poodle. now I happen to know
that a red poodle is mommy's favourite
dog. she tries to cover my ears
whenever she talks about them, but i
still know. i used to be quite red
myself - an "apricot" - whatever that
means - cockapoo. but i'm pretty blond
anyways, this here red poodle walked
by with his owners and my mommy and
daddy got talking to them all and
apparently they were looking for a new
home for him. anyways, we got along
pretty good, but i didn't like the way
he kept climbing on my back - he is
only one years old, but still ..... i
think it's a dominance thing or
whatever. here's a picture of him and
me together. this was before he
climbed on my back.
so the end of the story is that they
found out that the one-dog policy in
our condo in the city can't be budged
- i don't understand any of it. but i
think that, in the end, they were
relieved. she says "we don't need a
WHEW! that was one dog-gone darn close
this was the best day of
my doggy life! I turned 15 and everybody
made such a fuss. I went with my mommy
and daddy to uncle j and auntie i's
cottage in the country. they let me roam
all over their HUGE place. i felt like
the original gatsby roaming around his
mansion in west egg. the only creature
missing was daisy. did i tell you that
my girlfriend's name is daisy?
anyways, they made me a dog-food cake
and lit a candle on it. even tho i knew
it was just my usual food shaped in a
mound, it wad SO exciting to have a
candle on it. and to hear them sing. i
wore my best orange hoodie.
they were very lenient (whatever that
means) the whole day and kept saying
"it's okay, it's your birthday."
i cried a bit at supper cuz they tied me
up when they were eating STEAK, but deep
in my doggy heart i understand that i
can be difficult at table.
anyways, then i had a lovely nap as they
drove me home. can't wait until I'm 16!
i know, there's been a huge lag in my
blog. we just haven't had the heart for it
for a while, but i can tell we're
travelling again and it seems as if things
are getting back to the old way. that is,
we're in the car, i'm harnessed in the
back (i know, they love me and it's for my
own safety) . . .
BUT they ate party sandwiches in the front
of the car with me harnessed in the back.
i cried and i whimpered for miles (we're
not in kilometers no more) but they paid
no attention. anyways they finally
FINISHED and we arrived in saratoga
springs. i love it here cuz they don't
even bring my cage into the room. i can
sleep wherever i want. i usually take the
big sofa where they have laid a towel to
signal to me (all this semiotic signifying
stuff) that it's where i'm supposed to be.
in the mornings i can just jump on their
bed without having to be unlocked from my
cage the way i am most nights of my life.
they've put a chair near the bed and
taught me to jump on it and then on the
bed in case i miss my leap. the beds in
hotels are getting higher and higher (have
you noticed that?) and she's such a
worry-wart that i take pity on her and
relearn the trick each place we go. you
know . . . teaching older dogs new tricks
. . .
did you know that i am already 14?
everybody makes such a fuss about it! big
deal, i don't feel any different. age is
just a letter or whatever.
BUT i heard her say she packed my
cookies in the NYC bag and it's in the
CAR, so i won't have none for two days
unless one of the stores on the street has
some and someone takes pity on me. there's
a store called sloppy kisses where mommy
buys all my hoodies. they have a bakery
and it smells like doggy heaven, but she
never hardly buys any of their stuff
except clothing, not even toys. so i have
to hope that i'll get lucky and that the
lady behind the counter will give me a
how pathetic is that . . .
tuned. blog continuing soon . . .
it or not, we've all adjusted to the
stroller. it took us right through nyc and
on to montreal in may.
in new york, they even visited the museum
of photography with me inside. you see,
the front and top come together into a
mesh cage, so once inside i can finally
relax and not have to be on show. and it's
nice and dark in there. mommy says that
everyone "averts their glance" when they
look in because they think they are seeing
an extraordinarily hairy baby and are too
polite to look further. for me it's a
great chance to snooze or chill.
the only time i tried to get out happened
when we were kicked out of the sony
building in new york. mommy was
trying to have a coffee in the atrium. two
big guards came over and said "no dogs
alowed." they escorted us to the door
before mommy could even put her coat on or
cover me with my blanket. she had to put
her coffee down in that darn cup-holder. i
started to jump around to get more
comfortable because new york was REALLY
cold in march. anyways, between my jumping
and mommy trying to put her coat on, the
coffee spilled on the "gorgeous" canvas of
when we finally got outside, we were right
in front of a hot-dog stand. the smells of
the hotdogs, as you might imagine, really
overwhelmed me and i couldn't stop
squirming and trying to get out. at the
end of the day, don't forget i am a DOG!
anyways, that was the end of the stroller
for that day.
but in montreal it was great because i
didn't have to walk on the cobblestones of
the old city. they are really hard on the
paws (you might never have tried it!).
anyways, all and all, the stroller has
been a great thing for me now that i've
gotten over the mortification of it all!
winter update, 2009
happened. remember in the summer they
almost bought me a stroller? well, we are
going back to nyc for 10 days and because
i am such a bad walker and inhibit
(whatever that means) their good time,
they bought me this jeep. they don't call
it a stroller. they call it my "jeep." see
the word on the handlebar? but you and i
know better. (click to
see the picture.)
They say it will liberate them in new
york. actually, i happen to
love sitting in it because it
has a snuggly cushion and my burberry
(knock-off) blanket. it matches my colour
(beige) and is quite cool looking. very
up-to-date with a cup holder for my water
and her coffee. but still,
it's quite mortifying. mostly for them.
they say it will allow them to "make
tracks," whatever that means.
summer travel, 2008
here in new york and i've been a very good
boy and a very healthy boy. i haven't
brunged up all week. sorry to be so
graphic, but i'm writing on her email and
i know her style. i never get my own when
this apartment hotel is very nice. the
suite is great. i have my own room, which
is a relief! she has a kitchen. it's good
to store water in the fridge. nothing
else, naturally, except my dog food.
it rained while we were at a street
festival. but we still had fun. there's
tons of great stuff on the ground at
street festivals in new york. but then
they put that blessed halty on my snout
and i could hardly get no good pieces of
dropped food after that. sorry about the
at restaurants here the people make me be
tied to the other side of the railing on
the far side of the sidewalk. like at a
meter while they're at the cafe part. and
the sidewalks here are very broad
(whatever that means). it's a new york
law. anyways, i cried a lot when this
happened, actually i think the word is
howled, and they had to leave the
restaurant and try another place.
this time the restaurant girl let me be
tied outside where they were stitting on
the other side of some flower boxes. i
didn't like this either and though i
didn't know i had it in me, i actually
jumped up on the flower box and onto
mommy's shoulder. everyone there was very
surprised to see a dog perched on her
shoulder. but they didn't understand. i'm
not used to being outside the railings.
we had to leave there too.
writing mostly because i'm upset about
something and i think if i write about it,
she might see it and have pity on me. I
think they are getting a stroller for me.
we've been to tons of dog stores and they
keep putting me in these contraptions.
they say it will allow them to be freer
and to keep me with them more. otherwise,
i'll have to stay in the hotel while they
gallivant all day.
anyways, what i'm consternated about is
not the stroller as much as the colour.
the only one they really like is pink. so
the disconcerting, discombobulating aspect
is that i heard her say, "well, who cares.
we'll take it in pink. no one has to know
that he's a boy."
can you believe it? i've got my paws
crossed that it won't happen and that
somehow they'll find one in blue.
honestly, if you can't find blue in new
york city, where can you?
I'm hoping it will just pass over and that
it's a thing of the "moment."
winter incident, 2008
know how it happened, but mommy noticed
that i was blinking (whatever that means)
a lot. so off we went to the dog doctor's
house and then to another dog doctor eye
specialist, can you believe it? anyways,
apparently i have a scratched cornea. it
doesn't bother me much, except for the
blinking thing. but the doctor was really
serious. he told mommy that she had to put
drops in seven times a day and that i had
to wear this funny cone on my head for at
least two weeks.
mommy says "the vets see her coming,"
whatever that means. also, she says, "i've
just paid for their vacation to the
riviera," wherever that is. anyways, here
i am. just click if you want to see me
looking really silly.
i hope it never happens to you, but,
actually, if it does, it's not that bad.
i've had lots of extra treats because of
it and many, many cuddles. even from
strangers like the japanese tourist in
valumart who took that picture while i was
tied up waiting for mommy to finish her
fall birthday, 2007
it's the end of a perfect day. unlike
yesterday. yesterday was my birthday and
i never got nothing special from no one.
sure they said "happy birthday gatsby"
in the morning. but then mommy went all
the way far on the highway to work and
left me at 7:30, even before i did my
morning stuff. then daddy took me to the
dreaded groomer. they call it my "spa"
day, but let me assure you it isn't.
it's awful. it takes six hours or more
and you have to be in the drying cage
then she picked me up, late, as usual,
and i thought i was finally going to
have some fun because she was getting
all dressed up. i thought she wanted to
look pretty like me before she took me
out for my birthday. and then, she just
left me in the front hall and went out
with daddy to a party. and they didn't
get home until after 10:00. sure, they
left the cartoons on as usual, but it's
not the same as being there with me.
so i had a terrible day for my birthday.
she knew it because i heard her say
"he's just a dog and doesn't really know
one day from the next so maybe we should
redo his birthday tomorrow. he won't
know the difference."
and, yes, they did redo my birthday and
it was wonderful. I spent the whole day
with mommy – in the car, in the shops,
all the things she loves to do that I,
too, now love to do. I even got an email
birthday card and a new toy. I think I
turned four, maybe five, because she
does lie about my age to forestall
people saying how finite my life is. I
don't care at all. I feel like a puppy!
back in toronto and i don't like it one
bit. i've been feeling very destabilized
(i think that means all mixed up). it's
all because of the noise outside my
place. there's hammering all the time.
i like to pride myself on being a real
cool (i mean really cool) urban animal.
but all the construction noise outside
my apartment is way over the top. it
goes on all day. so i don't mind my walk
with daddy early in the morning and
later at night, but i won't tolerate
walking in the daytime.
mommy's all upset because i've ruined
her routine. she likes to walk along all
the fancy streets near us and sit in
cafés and show me off. she loves it when
people say how cute i am and what a
"good boy" i am. i like it too, but not
if it means having to be out in that
clamour. so i've gone along with her
walking routines up until now. but now
it's too frightening out there and my
fears can never end because the noise
never stops. on all sides of our
i've found out that if i just sit down
in the middle of the street and don't
move, i can exert a lot of control.
that's what it's about, eh? in fact, i
think sit-down strikers learned from
mommy has tried everything. she has
pulled and pulled but all that happens
is that she pulls my collar right over
my little head. and i'm still sitting!
she has tried throwing my ball. i fell
for that one the first time because i
absolutely love playing ball, even if i
don't retrieve it real good (i mean
really well). i chased it all the way
down the street, temporarily forgetting
where i was. but as soon as i realized
that i had fallen for the ball trick
(and i was "off leash," whatever that
means), i just started to run back home.
sometimes she has to take the car. i
love that because she drives away from
the noise. then we get out and walk.
that's fine with me, but mommy is really
upset because she says it's ridiculous
to live downtown and put money in a
meter only a few blocks from home.
personally, i think it's the answer to
the only thing that's making me think i
might soon have to give in is that i
heard her mention two words that sound a
little upsetting: "phobic" and "dog
shrink." i hope it doesn't come to that,
whatever that means.
we're travelling again because i was
tied up in my harness on the back seat
of the car for a long time. what i do is
i lie still for about three hours or so
(not counting our walking breaks). then
i start to whimper in the back seat.
then i elevate, enumerate, escalate (or
whatever) the whimpering to a constant
crying until they can't stand it
anymore. then they let me out and i come
and sit on mommy's lap in the front
seat. she says it's dangerous for dogs
not to be harnessed in. but nonetheless
she gives in.
we're in a new place called saratoga.
it's all very confusing to me because it
doesn't seem like sarasota where we were
in the winter. that town is warm and has
beautiful palm trees. this place smells
like pine trees. i don't know for sure
because i've been under the bed since i
got here. in new places i always check
out this area first because it's safe
(except for the dust balls which make me
cough). sometimes i can't get underneath
the bed, but this one's nice and high.
mommy says this b&b is even nicer
than last year's, so maybe i'll come out
know i shouldn't complain because people
say i'm a very "privileged" (spoiled)
dog. we've just come home from a very
long trip. all the way down to florida
and back. i, apparently, was a very good
dog and stayed in my harness in the back
seat most of the time. quite frankly,
it's all a blur to me except for a
couple of pretty worrisome incidents.
is this great dog shop in sarasota
called "wet noses." anyways, they went
in there with me, but i didn't even get
a cookie there (even tho part of the
place is a barkery) because the sales
girl was too busy reading. she had a
little yappy dog that took a disliking
to me, who knows why, and i had to
suffer through all his or her barking
the whole time i was there. it was very
what happened was, let me diverge. you
know my beautiful burberry winter coat?
well it's very old now. it has a lot of
sloppiness about it. a bunch of pulled
threads and even tho i still get a lot
of compliments on it, it's had its day,
as they say. it's about its fifth
season. i think i've had it since i was
one years old.
there was a gorgeous burberry one there.
very heavy real wool. the girl stopped
reading enough to say that it was such a
good knock-off that the company who made
it had been sued. need i say more to
tell you how gorgeous it was? and it fit
me perfectly and i'm not easy to fit
because even though i'm quite slender,
i'm very long (tall). have you noticed
that in my picture?
loved it. she, on the other hand, saw a
chocolate brown angora coat with bronze
sequins all over it and fell in love
with it and wanted to buy it instead.
they were all on sale because who needs
wool coats in florida? right?
look good in the sequined one. it fit me
to a "t." but it was really for a girl
dog. daddy said immediately that he
would NOT walk me in it. mommy asked the
girl, who was back reading again, and
she looked up and said it was cool.
anyways, there was a lot of
discussion about it. a guy who was
in the store with his girlfriend said
that it was quite "cool." i kept walking
around in it and because i couldn't see
the sequins on my back, i was quite
happy. it did feel very snugly and cozy.
it was chilly in florida that day.
know i am quite urbane, but,
nonetheless, this was going too far
apparently. you know how much she likes
sparkly stuff. just look at her own
wardrobe. so her judgement was really
make this very long story short, finally
a lady came in who said, this would be
great on me if my name was "liberace."
whatever that means. so they didn't buy
it and luckily i am now the owner of a
VERY beautiful burberry knockoff.
the story's not over. i hope i'm not
went out again to starbucks on st.
armand's circle. same walk each day.
it's supposed to be healthy for both of
everything was fine. it was quite chilly
out so i was wearing a new chocolate
brown little sweatshirt from american
eagle. nice, masculine, comfortable.
out of the blue, in a little boutique,
she sees a leopard dog coat in a store
that isn't even a dog store. this time
the owner had a white maltese. i love
malteses but this one would not stop
barking. it was ridiculous. nobody could
think or concentrate. anyways, before i
knew it, she bought this coat for me.
it's very silky and has a zipper at the
neck. it matches my leopard leash that
she bought in key west. she likes
"themes," whatever they are. i think all
this literary stuff has unbalanced her.
said the fabric seemed like lingerie,
but he wasn't as upset as he was about
the sequins. i heard someone say
the word "leotard," whatever that is.
can't believe i haven't written in so
long. sometimes this blog is getting to be
a bit of a bother. especially when she
won't let me have any space to myself on
the computer. she doesn't mind using it in
my name whenever she wishes, but to give
me some private time, ALONE, seems to be
another matter entirely.
valentine's day, she must have sent out
about 10 valentine's cards in my name.
corny ones too. but i wouldn't have minded
except she didn't even get me one. she and
daddy have this whole routine where he
gives her about 10 or more each year. she
finds them all over the place, like a
scavenger hunt, whatever that is. so he
gives her two from me and she gives him
one from me. but neither of them remembers
(good pronoun agreement, eh!) to give me
one from them. the only one i got was from
mommy's friend auntie pat, who, even
though she meant well, sent it to me after
she received mine ("belatedly," i think is
the word). but it was sure better than
the reasons i haven't written is that i
was sick, a second time! now they're not
calling it a "blip." they're calling me a
"bad boy." and I'm not used to that at
all. now I have to wear a lead called a
"halty" around my nose when I go out. so
that I won't pick anything up. i hate it
and I rub against anyone who's near me to
try to get it off. even strangers, who
think I'm nuzzling (whatever that means)
up to them and they say "he's so cute."
but I can't get it off most of the time.
did was i picked up the shell of a horse
chestnut on the street. prickles and barbs
and all. i don't know why i do these
things. one reason is that they smell
good. another reason is that they
look interesting. my gullet is very big.
so it's not hard to swallow. the problem
is later. . .. i won't go into the
details, but it was pretty bad,
apparently. the doctor kept saying, "oh
what a brave, big boy he is." and then
he'd probe me more. but i love doctor jim
and so i let him.
still wish it was my brother, who's also a
doctor (another kind), who could do it. he
really loves me. but even he didn't send
me a valentine. or my sister.
a really hard time of year for me. i don't
feel like all the other dogs who are all
excited about santa and wearing cute
little santa outfits. some even have
reindeer antlers on their heads. everybody
on the street asks me what santa is
bringing me. i never even heard of him
until the other day when they finally
broke down and took me to petsmart to sit
on his knee. that was okay, but scary. he
had a long white thing all over his face.
i didn't want to kiss him at all. so in my
picture with him i apparently look
"stunned," whatever that means.
also broke down and got me a cute tshirt.
it's not christmassy like the other dogs'.
it just says "official snowdog" on the
back of it. i can't even read it because
it's on my back. how's that for
is okay, i guess. but they won't let me
have any of the delicious-smelling latkas
or chanukah cookies with those beautiful
iced stars and menorahs on them. they say
"no, not for doggies, gatsby." i hate that
patronization or whatever. and each night
when they light the menorah, i'm not
allowed near the candles in case i get my
fur scoured or scorched or whatever.
of it all, i got really sick this week. i
didn't want to go out for my walk and i
didn't want to eat, not even cookies. then
I did something on the street that is
apparently a really bad sign for a dog. i
won't go into graphic details, but mommy
got really scared and rushed me to the
tell you how brave i am at the vet's? he
always says "you're such a brave, big
boy." and it's true. i let him do awful
things to me and don't get mad at him or
even cry. i just whimper a bit.
i'm all better now. they say it was just a
doggie blip. maybe i picked something up
inadventuresomely or whatever that cut me
inside my tummy. now i'm fine and i'm
eating my cookies again. i'm ready for a
can't believe so many days have passed
since i've felt like writing. it's
something mommy has always talked about,
but i never believed it. when things are
going good (i mean well, or do i?), who
has to write! and things have been great
got all that hoopla over with about my
brother and his doctored or doctorate or
whatever, i became king again. the way i
like it and the way it should be. as long
as they've decided to take another species
into their midst, they should treat me as
the special creature that i am. i know
that sounds pretty spoiled. actually,
everybody says i'm spoiled. people on the
street look at me, fuss over me, pat me
forever, and then say "i'll bet he's
spoiled." i don't know how to read that.
and i certainly don't feel spoiled. i just
feel like a normal dog.
brings me to hallowe'en. that was fun! i
dressed up as a normal dog, naked and
everything. as you might have guessed, i'm
usually dressed. at the very, very least i
always wear my collar and all its jewelry
(tags). usually i have on a real cool
scarf. often a coat or a jacket. in the
winter, i wear boots because the salt just
kills me. sometimes she puts everything on
at once: collar, coat, scarf, boots. i
know, give me a break!
be a plain naked dog for hallowe'en was
amazing! very liberating. it also showed
all the people who say "he's so human" who
i really am.
week before, or whenever, we went to
montreal. they always stay at dog hotels,
so naturally i'm treated special. this
time they had a big bag of treats waiting
for me, a huge, soft bed (not the firm
orthopedic type she makes me sleep on) and
two feeding bowls. anyways, it's great
snooping around a new place. i find
terrific stuff under the beds and in the
corners. and when they go out, they always
leave the cartoon channel on for me. when
i'm tired of watching tv, i can roam
around the whole room with no one saying
"no, don't eat that!" i only bark if i
hear someone in the hall and that's only
about every five minutes or so.
only tiring part about going to montreal
or even ottawa is that she makes me do all
my commands in french. she's such a show
off, but i give in because of, you guessed
it, the extra cookies. anyways, i only
know how to do four things in english:
sit, down, give a paw, left paw/right paw.
so it's no big deal to do it in french.
it's worth it in the end.
blog is getting to be a great outlet for
me. very peripatetic, frenetic,
therapeutic (or whatever). it seems, too,
that others must be reading it because
mommy received an email wondering why i
hadn't written for over a week.
excuse me, but i haven't fallen behind.
she just hasn't taken it from me yet.
first there was this big "literary nites"
event at uncle charlie pachter's moose
factory "salon." (whatever that is. seems
like a gertrude stein throw-back word to
me.) anyways, you can read about literary
nites on our web site. (she'd die if she
knew i called it "our" web site. but let's
be truthful here.)
had this amazing evening where charlie
showed his art and talked about his work
and his collaboration with margaret
atwood. both she and charlie are very
famous. what it meant to me, of course, is
that while all this stuff was going on,
where do you think i am through it all? at
home, naturally. she's out there with her
big literary gang cultivating and
culturating, and i'm at home on the couch,
or my mat, or the barred-up chair. and i'm
hungry, bored, unpatted for at least two
hours while all this is going on.
top of it all, pachter has a gorgeous book
that he illustrated with about every farm
animal in it except – you guessed it – A
DOG! and they were all raving about the
she was too busy being in new york at the
new yorker festival, whatever that is, and
guess who wasn't there and guess who had
to have two different dog-sitters plus my
brother and guess who didn't even get ONE
present, not even a cookie (i wouldn't
have even cared if it was an old cookie
from her pocket) and guess who got a
gorgeous sweater from new york. you got
it. he did. my winter sweater is at least
two years old. everyone has seen it for
ever. i know i'm going to feel embarrassed
wearing it yet again this season.
wasn't that bad a day last sunday. at one
point, they even came home and brought me
over to the duke pub to let all the babies
at the party pat me. i liked that a lot
for two reasons: (note that fancy colon;
mommy calls it the colon with pizzazz –
whatever that means). now you've probably
lost my train of thought. you're not
supposed to write in an interruptive
fashion the way i just did. it's too hard
for the reader. and mommy is totally
focused on readers.
i love it when babies pat me for two
reasons, both affecting my very keen sense
of smell: their diapers (i won't give my
personal reasons here) and their little
baby fingers. their fingers always smell
of cookies or baby fruit or baby chicken.
and i love those smells, especially the
cookie smell. but then, for those of you
who know me, you know that i'm a cookie
freak. i'll do anything, sell my doggy
soul, for even a half a cookie. and i'm
talking dog cookies. those cardboardy
think i've changed my mind again about the
order of my entries. it's my pejorative, i
mean perspective, i mean prerogative or
whatever. that's what's good about blogs.
there's lots of freedom to change your
mind. anyway, it's too complicated for me
to cut and paste all these entries and it
kills my paw to hold that shift key for so
long. so i'm going to go in plain ordinary
probably not a great time for me to be
making a major decision anyway. things
have been terrible. for instance,
yesterday was my birthday and they didn't
even remember until today. and guess where
i spent today? at the dreaded groomers. i
know i look great afterwards, but i hate
it there. there are so many dogs and one
was crying most of the time. the others
kept sniffing me. i hate it when dogs do
that. it's so rude. i snarl back. everyone
is so surprised when i do that, because i
look so cute (apparently) that no one can
believe i would behave like that.
all the focus seems to be on my brother.
they are having this enormous party on
sunday. at first, when she took me to the
grooming salon, i thought it was a good
sign. maybe i was going to be invited to
the party. but i know that's just
neurotic hope. i know i won't be there.
so, it's going to be a really bleak day
for me on sunday. a bummer, as they say.
to rant like this, but sometimes it's
really hard being a dog.
i've made one decision. i'm going to use
the combo order for my blog. that is, the
most current day will be first, but then
i'll paste it into the end when i do my
next date. so except for the current date,
it will be chronologically correct. sound
good? apparently i can make all these
decisions because there are no set rules
for blogs. i like that a lot.
have been a little hectic since the new
term started. for one thing, she's back to
her old schedule; so i'm alone a lot. my
brother got his phd, whatever that means.
i heard them calling him doctor griesdorf
so i got quite excited because i thought i
wouldn't have to go to the vet any more.
if my brother's a doctor now, he could
give me those awful needles. you know, the
ones they are supposed to put in the thick
part of my fur between my shoulders where
it's not supposed to hurt. well, it does
hurt. the only reason i don't cry too long
is that i always get a cookie when they're
anyways, apparently a phd doctor isn't the
type who can give shots. i find this very
confusing. no wonder people study
semiotics. how can we sign to each other
if words like doctor can be so easily
deconstructed? whatever all that means!
if you're reading this, you'll see that i
don't use caps. the truth is, the shift
key hurts my paw so mommy and me decided
early on that i didn't have to use caps.
she still makes me use purfect gramar,
spelling and puntuation; so that i don't
represent the writing consultants bad.
have made a few little errors in those
sentences. when i get excited, it
it all started with the sore paws but we
know tons of people who don't use caps in
email. mommy even knows one lawyer who
doesn't punctuate he just puts two
spaces between sentences. apparently there
is a story by don marquis called "archie
and mehitabel" about a spider who has the
same trouble as i have typing capitals.
but i didn't know about that when i first
told mommy how sore my paws got from the
truth is, for people who aren't good
typers, it makes a lot of sense. but she's
afraid to expound this too much in her
professional world because she knows that
her clients might think that no caps is
the beginning of everything falling apart.
we see it simply as convenient. not lazy.
not careless. not the end of the world!
not even grammatically wrong. just no
would never espouse (whatever that means)
sure exactly what a blog is, but it seems
to me to be somewhere between a diary and
a newsletter and perhaps a rant. in my
little dog life, i've had such fun writing
email that i'm hoping this can be a bit
more of the same. but at least with email
i have someone in mind who is palpable
(smellable) to me in my memory. i know
they love me and it helps me to express
seems so weird because i don't know whom
i'm writing to, i mean to whom i'm
writing. do you think i have to be so
grammatically perfect as mommy makes me be
in my email?
i let it all hang out in my blog, will
anybody find it interesting? do you think
virginia woof (woolf?) would have liked
blogs? i think she would have.
how's this for a problem i have found
already: should i follow what seems to be
a blog tradition and use reverse
chronological order? here's what i've been
reading about that, only to make me even
i thought this was going to be easy!
more later as i search for my bloggie doggie
august 28, 2006
wait to start my blog!