Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Wordless Wednesday

I don't know who he is calling me small.
What I lack in the physical, I make up for in personality and command.

I can explain the photo: I only turned my back on him for a second. There was a flat squirrel, invisible to the human eye, in the backyard. Only I saw it, only I barked. This is why you have me posted here, among my many other assignments within the superstructure I am always alert, aware of my surroundings, aware of things no one else sees or hears.

Ever since Stanley showed up all he's done is take pictures and file reports, which is very suspicious; but from what I can tell he is completely unaware that he is made of paper and that to a dog, he is edible. He claims he's not a spy, and that he's innocently reporting to children in Australia about what it's like here in Canada. I don't trust him, though I don't consider him a threat. He seems to believe I am just a cute, sausage dog.
Even Mum and Dad know I can do him harm because they won't leave me alone with him, and always place him high on a bookshelf where (they think) I can't reach him. For now he's safe with them, but it's only a matter of time.

Mr. Mustard

Friday, March 4, 2011


Moneypenny, let me tell you the secret of the world. Red wine (when you get the chance to stick your nose in a glass), and white  ..cheese. I suspect the many cheese cubes treats we've been given lately were tampered with, but I was able to avoid being made a fool. Claire was not so lucky - in fact I believe she's the only one took the pieces with pills. Gromit and I just ate cheese. It was delightful.

Gromit has been sleeping on the job lately, especially in sunbeams. Chops would not be impressed with Gromit's security tactics, tsk, tsk.
I'm alert though, I'm always on the job. Wherever Mum goes I go. When she moves my eyes move - even if you think I'm sleeping, I'm not..I'm waiting.

I travel, sort of a licensed trouble shooter. By day I attached myself to laps and feet, and stay within the same room as my assignment at all times -even in the bathroom. Especially in the bathroom. Nightly recently, my interest turns to Dad (who comes and goes in his mysterious ways) who I have discovered is easily wooed into a snuggle, then stunned and momentarily paralyzed by my infallibly cold, wet nose. 

Though I was once again dusted with sugar in the kitchen, the Cone-of-Distinction has not returned. 

Mr. Mustard

Wednesday, March 2, 2011

The great Overdog  
That heavenly beast  
With a star in one eye  
Gives a leap in the east.
He dances upright  
All the way to the west  
And never once drops  
On his forefeet to rest.
I'm a poor underdog,  
But tonight I will bark  
With the great Overdog  
That romps through the dark.

Canis Major
Robert Frost