Thursday, December 27, 2007

My apologies to the masses

It has been awhile since I have taken the time to sit and collect my thoughts. There are many, and they are piling up like the sordid tales of my past. I apologize for not blogging nearly enough, I know that there are those of you who depend on me for your own well being.
We just had a splendid Christmas with the Houghton's in Iowa. We had a Rockwellian time. The snow lay gently on the ground, the decorations warmly lit the living room with family gathered together from all around, and the spirit of St. Nicklaus was in the air.
The drive down was not so horrific, however, if you ask the Beast, Lucy, it might as well have been a voyage in the belly of a cargo ship traveling down around Cape Horn at the base of Argentina before the Panama Canal was built. My great great great great uncle died of typhoid fever building the great waterway. Lucy obviously is not as well traveled as I am. I have been on several more daring adventures in my time.
Upon arrival I was able to meet many who I had not yet met. I know that it is uncouth to have favorites within family, but I had a definite liking for Jeff and Michelle's niece, Kylie. She is not yet 2 and a half, but we hit it off handsomely. She pets in the manner of a small child, but it is petting nonetheless. I even lent my mug for a picture to be framed for her to take with her. Hopefully she will think of me as I do her.
Probably the best surprise was the snow, it was nearly as tall as I. I was able to trudge through it with ease given my background in the...um...well...I shouldn't say. Let's just say I spent some time in an event that starts with I and ends with ditarod. It was nice to feel as though I was back in Alaska mushing, working on a team of other dedicated canines twice my size, toward a common goal.
Overall it was nice to experience some new petting styles. Don't get me wrong I love the Springfield Houghtons and their propensity to pet. It is simply a nice treat to feel some differing styles. As I mentioned Kylie was a nice petter with her Pat-Smear, Pat-Smear technique. Scott, who I suppose is my uncle of sorts was great. He has an almost massage like quality, it's what we call a Swedish Pet. Steve, the patriarch of the family, employs a Scratch Stroke method. I could not always have it. It's like when you sink into a hot tub. The first few seconds you wonder if you can handle it, but eventually you can't imagine not having it.
It is great to be back! For all the Rockwellian good times, it is nice to get your paws dirty in your own yard. Hopefully I will increase the frequency of my posts. I'm off to partake in some cheddar and summer sausage while I watch one of the few television shows that I enjoy, Nova.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Some More Background

I thought it best to give you some more background on myself so as to extend some context in understanding such a complex individual.
I am an educated male. I know ladies, I know what you're saying, "Good looks and smarts? How is this possible?" Well believe me I know it is rare. Although I no longer have the means to procreate I still know what it is to sexually yearn. I will, however, not tempt you with such talk.

I believe it was Rene Descartes who said, " I think therefore I am." Generally I am not a fan of French existentialism, but this seems to suit me in a way. I tend to focus on pursuits of the intellect. I am a dog of literature, a dog of Sylvia Plath, a dog of Flannery O'Connor, not so much a dog of John Grisham. Don't bore me with the story of a small town everyday lawyer in over his head overcoming the scandals of a corporation of lawyers. Yawn. Give me a soft light, in a cozy room, an equally soft chair, a 1963 Cabernet water, Ravel's 'Bolero', and a novel that stirs I will be nearly truly happy.

Yet,I would not be entirely truthful if I did not mention that although I pursue the fancies of the higher class there is but one thing I truly truly pursue. Being petted. That is it. Aaaaaah, yes, petting. I believe it was Sophocles' dog who said, "Steal the arts away from my cool grip, ravage the love from my open arms, pillage the very breath from my pant, but lo! I need none of these as I need the caress of the gods upon my pelt."

I have made it the goal of my life, the passion of my existence to be petted as much as is possible. I have many tools at my discretion for making this happen. I wiggle, I dance, I jump, I sigh, I wiggle, I roll on my back, I shed like the carpet is on fire and the only means to put it out is to drench it in my own fur. The common Houghtons are like putty in my hands when I employ these tools. Especially the kindly pale man who goes by the moniker of Jeff. If you know one thing about me know this: I will do whatever is within my power (or beyond for that matter) to be petted as much as I can. I look at it as a life goal. Some paint, some give to the needy, some pursue money, yet it is all a chasing of the wind in comparison to "the caress of the gods upon my pelt."

Sunday, October 21, 2007

Why I am Here


So why does one blog? Why open your heart to so many others, be they friend or stranger? It is a cultural phenomenon that may define our age. I blog for myself and I blog for my readers. I truly feel as though I have much to offer. I have been through a lot and if I can provide insight on life to others simply by sharing my heart, then far be it from me to withhold.
For the canines out there I am 35 years old. For the homosapiens I am merely 5 years old. I assume this blog readership will surely cross species lines. For those of you yet to enjoy me, let's catch you up to speed.
In early May I had had enough of my former living situation and took the opportunity to escape. It was a daring escapade worthy of Steve McQueen. In the interest of confidentiality and those who may be on the hunt for me I will only refer to my former life in hints and riddles when necessary.
I made my way to the Sunshine Terrace area of town as I knew it to be a good one having summered there in my youth. Unfortunately, luck was not on my side. I spent one quarter of a fortnight meandering through the heat of day and the darkness of night. I am not meant for the savagery of outdoor living and just when I thought I must be on my last leg a motherly woman came upon me. She took me in to her quaint home. But, to my horror she had children! I have very little patience for these tadpole like creatures with their running and playing and general mischief.
Like Bill Clinton responding to sex scandal allegations I wiggled my way out of there. Finding a small opening in the fence I managed to jackknife my way through. I scooted quickly across the ground showing my captors my best feature kissing them goodbye.
After two more days on the lam, a beautiful woman in a magenta aged teri cloth robe caught my eye. I allowed her to catch me and soon felt again the warm embrace of a woman. It felt right.




She lives in a charming stone house


with her husband


and a savage beast of a dog who goes by the name of Lucy.


It has now been six months and I now call this home. I think I'll stay...for now.