07 September 2005

Some surfing

Craig was listening to some football on the radio for a bit, so I did some website surfing.
Blimey! There was a hurricane in America! Oh my, it looks bad. And all those poor dogs, stranded. what's going on? I think I need to get my dog passport out and get over there to bite the president's leg until he does something!
Until then, I'm going to get Craig to go to helpinganimals.com so he can do something.
I also found this funny thing on The Onion. I get more than enough petting, as it goes. I just smile at people on the street and they cave in. Craig says I'm a slut. Not sure what that means, but I think it means 'cute.'

04 September 2005

Hurry up!

You know what's really frustrating? When I'm taking Craig to the park, he's so slow! He just saunters along, and I just wanna run like the wind! Can't I just go on my own? I know the way. In fact, I know the three or four ways we can go.
But, no. Craig says the roads are dangerous.
Pah, rubbish, I've not been hit by a car yet and I'm a big boy now!
We didn't get to stay too long today, sadly, cos Craig was a moody bugger due to there being buskers in the park playing "crappy jazz shite."

02 September 2005

Research

Hello. I've been spending a lot of time lately doing research into the other dogs in my area. And I'm marking out my turf.
You know what? My turf is pretty solid. All around directly outside our home, other dogs don't pee so much any more; and I don't see much poo either.
But the farther away I go, the more I can smell.
So I'm trying to widen my circle.
Craig is calling me Genghis Khan.
Not sure what that means, but it's probably a good thing.
In other news, the dead pigeon has finally been removed from underneath my favourite tree. It took me ages to realise he was dead. Every day for weeeeeeeeeks I'd stop and have a little chat with him, like, Hey birdy, how's it going? Still chillin' there. Don't blame you really, it's summer, might as well make the most of it.
I always thought he was just asleep, or didn't speak dog language, but then I asked Craig about it and he said that pigeon was dead.
I tried to do that thing that Catholics do where they made a cross on their chest with their fingers, but, well, my paws just couldn't cut it.