I've suffered all the indignities I plan to suffer.

Greetings, humans.

I apologize for my prolonged absence. So much has happened since I last addressed you, but I think I may simply tell you of the shocking and deeply distressing events of today.

I was taken to the place of dread. No, not the giant bathtub with the roaring fire-hot air cannons which take away my glorious scent and replace it with something bland and forgettable. Although I fear that day is coming soon.

No, the other place of dread, where they force me to stand upon a rubber mat while they embarrassingly announce my weight to everyone within earshot, then put me in a windowless room that smells like fear and poodles with a metal table in the middle, then they poke and prod me in a dozen different unpleasant ways, including the exceedingly rude method of taking my temperature.

Today was the worst of such visits. Well, the SECOND worst. (We won't talk about the WORST.) This time, they punctured my precious flesh with giant needles and took my blood from me! They put it in a tiny glass bottle and ran it through some sort of machine, followed by the announcement that I, Moxie Puppypants, am hypothyroid.

I am not altogether sure what that means, although it seems to have something to do with my preference to lay on the floor instead of traipsing through the park for hours on end, and it also must have something to do with my sudden development of big bones. I'm big-boned, you see. That's what it is.

I aver to you now, I will NOT take pills unless they taste like bacon.

Or peanut butter. I will accept peanut butter.

I was humiliated. Then I ate things I shouldn't have. I feel shame.

Greetings, humans.

It has been a long time since I last communicated with you, but it's not because I don't care. If I could, I would lick each and every one of you. But today I write to you because my heart is heavy with the shame of last weekend's events, and I need to unburden myself.

First, I was forced to participate in incomprehensible human activities. I fully understand why you humans choose to cover your inadequate bodies with manufactured items. If I had such an inferior amount of fur, I would want to cover myself as much as possible. I wish my fellow canines who posses ugly, fur-less bodies would similarly cover themselves. For instance, I think the chihuahua should cover himself completely -- preferably in a sack, weighted with rocks and sewn up to prevent any chance of escape before it was thrown into an impossibly deep body of water.

But me, with my glorious coat of luxurious fur, why was I forced to don clothing this weekend? I didn't want to do it, but it seemed to please the human puppies so much. I did it for them and them only. Here is a picture of my humiliation. As you can see, I am trying to hide my face from the shame of it all:



Can you not see my clothes? Here is a better look:




I wish I could blame humans for the second part of my problems, but I myself am the culprit. While I was unhappy to be constricted by the clothing placed upon me, I was thrilled to be included in the human gathering which took place around the corner. There were numerous humans and their puppies there, and even some fellow noble canines were there. Some were troubled as I was with human-styled clothing. I am grateful that I was not encumbered with headwear, as was poor dear Spike.

To further my delight (and that of my dog friends), this gathering included human food and the glorious, glorious human food delivery device called the PAPER PLATE. You see, at parties, food FALLS OFF these things ONTO THE GROUND where it belongs. So I can eat it. Which I did. Lots and lots and lots of it.

As a result, it took two days for my stomach to get back to normal. I know you silly humans do not like to discuss the fascinating topic of leavings and their various smells and consistencies, so I will not broach that. Suffice it to say I was not as happy as I normally am.

I also must mention that my humans finally did something I've always wanted to do, and I was allowed to participate with them: they convinced the surrounding humans to open the entrances to their caves, so we could get a good look and sniff inside! They were even given human-treats for doing so! I don't understand why we do not do this every day.

I was exhausted from this whole ordeal, but imagine my relief when my human-styled clothing was put away and I was no longer forced to wear it.

The Dog Vince Continues to Embarrass Himself. And Me.

The mistress prefers the trail that goes past Vince's house. Every time we go past, I hold my breath, hoping he won't be out with his master on his leash. Thankfully, he's been inside his den when we pass.

Except for today. He wasn't out for his walk, but he was in his back territory. He smelled me walking past, and he stuck his big ugly face under his fence (or what of it he could fit) and whined. He kept whining and whining until I could bear the incessant noise no longer and walked over to return his sniff.

How he carried on is unbecoming to any dignified beast. You would think I brought him a rawhide chew with some of the flesh still intact. He really must get over me. It does him no good to get worked up in such a way for nothing.

Also, it has come to my attention that a great many humans in my new home area ride bicycles while clad in those skin-tight shiny suits. It surprises me that the big cat creature hasn't hunted them down and killed them by now. If I was an extra-large predator capable of hunting and eating humans, I would pick those. I bet they have a nice bite to them, like a sausage casing.

I like sausage. I like rabbits, too, so I guess I understand the cat creature choosing to eat them as well.

Why Is Master Missing?

Greetings, Humans.

I am sad today.

I have been sad for two whole days.

Master is missing.

I am dreadfully worried. He left the home den very early one day, before the sun had risen. I do not know why. He did not return.

Could the giant cat creature have eaten him? I do not know when the giant cat creature hunts. I have not smelled her for many weeks now, but that doesn't mean she didn't return for a taste of my master. I wonder what he tastes like? I like the way he smells.

I MISS MASTER!

Mistress does not play with me like master does. She doesn't run around the food-eating place of delicious smells, making me bark with delight. She doesn't wrestle me to the ground. And the human puppies are too small to play with in such a manner. Only master.

I will not be happy again until master walks through the door.

I, Moxie, Need Your Advice

Greetings, humans.

Today I am troubled. Perhaps some of you female humans can help me with a perplexing situation that has developed. Of course, if you males have some insight for me, I would appreciate that as well. I am unsure how to act.

I have an unwelcome male admirer and I don't know what to do about it.

He is a pleasant enough fellow, and I didn't mind playing and sniffing with him. But his sniffing lingers longer than is socially acceptable for a friendly greeting, and I become uncomfortable. I try to engage him in play, to let him know we should just be friends. This works for a small while, but then he slobbers on me in an intimate manner I do not appreciate, yet I do not want to snap at him, as he is, as I stated before, a pleasant fellow. But I do not find him the least bit attractive.

You see, he is some sort of boxer/bulldog/pit bull hybrid, with a wide drooling maw that some might find alluring, but I do not. I prefer labradors or some mix thereof, with their silky ears and dark intelligent eyes and muscular hindquarters...

Ahem. I am forgetting myself.

If he were the rude and cowardly chihuahua who sticks his rat-like pinhead through the knot hole in his fence and shouts idle threats at me, I would have no problem crushing his skull and disposing his body in a shallow grave where the ever-circling buzzards could find him and pick apart his rotting carcass. I myself couldn't eat him, since his tiny, pathetic bones are probably like those of a chicken, that could easily shatter and choke me. I have considered this likelihood when I fantasize about killing him, which is every time we pass his fence. I do not like that nasty hairless thing.

But the boxer dog, Vince, I like. Just not in "that way." How do I tell him without hurting his feelings?

I Cannot Believe My Humans Have Survived as Long as They Have

I have been brought to a strange new land. It is hot and dry. The grass is spiky and crunches beneath my feet, and my paws itch. But I am enjoying the smells of the new birds and small lizards, and there is a large friendly lab up the street. His humans allow him to roam in exquisite freedom. Why am I not allowed such freedom? But I digress.

I used to think the smelly cat-like creature who so rudely sprayed that stinging oil into my face that one time when I tried to make friends with it was my most fearsome enemy, but no longer.

There is a much larger cat creature roaming the small forest behind my new den. This one is intent on eating me.

I smelled it one day when my beloved mistress was walking with me. She is either the bravest or most stupid creature on Earth; when I tried to pull her as quickly as possible from the impending doom, she ... (excuse me, but I get emotional about this) ... scolded me.

I do not like to be scolded. I am a good doggie. I AM A GOOD DOGGIE.

Where was I? Oh, yes. She was unhappy that I yanked the leash. Only when we had turned upon the hard path of stone, and I kept looking back to make sure the cat creature was not stalking us, intent upon preying on us as I knew it was, did my human realize there might be a real cause for concern.

I heard her say the word "coyotes." Coyotes, indeed! As if a noble fellow canine would do such a thing! Plus, I was pretty sure I could defeat at least one of those things.

No, this was a big, ferocious cat. Finally, she saw the beast a few days later. Must humans rely only on their eyes? How dangerous. I must increase my vigilance, knowing this. I MUST PROTECT MY HUMANS!

Finally, my mistress has begun heeding my warnings. The cat creature must not prevail! Also, I believe it is eating all the delicious, delicious rabbits.

I hate it, that cat creature.

I Try, and I Try... When Will They Listen?

Time and time again, I have tried to warn my humans and humans everywhere about the constant threats lurking around every corner. Do they listen? Do they take heed?

No. More often than not, by tireless efforts are met not with gratitude, not with praise for a job well done, but with a scolding. An admonition to stop my life's work!

To be fair, I've sometimes barked before thinking. It happens to the best of us. I now realize the man with the leather bag is not a foe, but a friend. It took me a while to realize this, with constant reminders from my humans. But look at it from my perspective: a man not of my pack approaches the den, day in and day out, looking for weakness ... a chance to strike? How was I to know he was simply putting paper in a box?

But I digress. Despite some miscalculations on my part, I must insist that the vast majority of my warnings are indeed valid. I must inform you when I see something that goes against nature, like humans with wheels for feet, or chihuahuas.

Or this guy:



He does not ride a bicycle like the other humans. It is different, it is scary, and it MUST be reported.

You will thank me someday, when an army of these strange creatures descends upon the neighborhood.

Because I am a good doggie, I will not say "I told you so."

My mouth will be too full of spandex bicycle shorts to do so.