Sunday, September 27, 2009

Clocking in!

I've gotten a few reminders that there are people who actually READ my diary who say that I need to start writing again. Here's the thing! I have to dictate to my Mom, who then has to transcribe Caninidian (or Puplish) into English and then put it on to the computer, which then goes into my blog. She has to be in just such a mood to do so and lately she's been a little distracted.

There are fewer consonents in my language due to the rigid formation of my mouth and lips. So if I try to say something like "Tuna Fish Sandwich", it comes out like "Turr-a-wit Tand-it" (sort of). "Cat" is "Owrrr"; "Out" is "Aurrr". And "Take dictation NOW" is "rrurrr-a-rowr-rrr-RRROW!!" A low throaty growl - "hrurrr hrurrr" can mean a lot of things, including "Have you noticed that the slider is closed and I haven't been out for..oh...let's see...maybe FOUR HOURS??"

We communicate pretty well, but there is room for improvement. At the moment, we're at the office and "The Mother Person" is doing reports. My plan is to sleep until it's time to go home for dinner.

Love you guys...


PS: When I got home tonight I was shooing off cats. Except one cat just sat there and STARED at me. Mom finally got off her duff and came to the window. Whoa...she says, "THAT'S JUST A BABY KITTY, MARY-MARGARET! YOU STOP SCARING THAT BABY!". Oh, like she might like me to have a kitty of my own, maybe? I don't theeeeenk so. But, I have to admit, it was kinda cute the way it kept looking at me. It was grey with a white face and white paws and maybe about 2 pounds worth of kitty...maybe if even that. Note to myself - remind Mom she's allergic to cats.

Wednesday, September 23, 2009

Powered by Gas!

Or maybe I should say "EMPOWERED" by Gas. I am FOUR - Hear me ROAR!!

It's amazing how the little things in life one discovers that gives them a feeling of superiority. Take "GAS", for example. It's one thing to know about it, and another to take control. For a long time when I was a little kid and I wanted to go to out, I'd scratch at the carpet, then on Mom's legs...and then I start talking non-stop so she couldn't hear her TV program and then she'd say, "Oh? You want to go to out?".

Now that I have the wisdom that comes along with being FOUR, I don't scratch...I don't paw! I don't even have to say a word. Nope! I very quietly hop onto the back of Mom's chair, position my body so my head is at the edge and my tail is in the middle..maybe about 6" from her nose. Then...slowly, silently....(OH I CAN'T STAND MYSELF...HEHEHEHEHEHEH! I AM BAAAAD to the BONE!)...I leak a little post-supper gas.

She goes "EEEEYEEEEW...OH, YOU STINK...ICK...UGH...HOW COULD YOU?" and then she sits up and fans the air. In a little bit, she takes a cautious, tentative sniff again and "OHHHH....GAWD....YOU ABSOLUTELY REEK!!" I'm doing the best I can to keep a straight face, here. This procedure usually gets the back door opened and, as I race for freedom, she calls out, "Make it snappy!". I'm pretty quick about it. Honestly, I might not really have to go out at all, but it's the IDEA of POWER that floats my boat. I HAVE THE POWER TO GET THE BACK DOOR OPEN! I like this very much!

Sometimes, just for fun because I like to yank her chain, I save up a little and let loose on the bed just as she starts to doze off. Yup! That gets her wide eyed and ready to rumble all over again.

I wonder what else I can do? Hmmmmmmmmmmmm??

Love, Mary-Margaret

Monday, September 21, 2009

An Argument Against Electronic Service of Process

An Argument Against Electronic Service of Process

The American people have specific rights afforded to them that are taken for granted. The right to "Due Process of Law" is one of them. As technological advances are made providing transmission of information electronically, do we - The American - stand to lose our Constitutionally guaranteed rights?

Read the Argument Against Electronic Service of Process. Have we come full circle? Will we be subject to judgment without notification? Will we be found guilty until proven innocent?

Read and decide!

Mary-Margaret "The Bloggy Doggy" O'Brien

(published as a courtesy to my mother, Michele Dawn, otherwise known as "The Princess of Process")

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Smarty Pants!!

From Michele, Mary-Margaret's mom:

Last night we were all ready for bed, doors locked and lights out, or so I thought. Mary-Margaret wasn't in any of her usual spots, and she wasn't in bed. The last thing I remembered doing is putting the laundry into the dryer. Could I have left her in the garage? Nope...not there. After looking absolutely everywhere for her, calling and calling, and then listening without response for the little tinkling sound her tags make, I thought the unthinkable. [gasp!] Could I have left her outside in the dark?

What kind of mother am I that I have lost my puppy, and maybe even shut her out doors and left her prey to owls, hawks and coyotes? At the exact moment that I thrust open the glass slider door, my sneaky little smarty-pants darted out from under the kitchen table and dove out her little personal doggy door. "Woo hoooooo!", I heard her say as she raced around the perimeter of our property. I swear I heard her gloating to the neighborhood cats at her cleverness.

Next time, I will look under the kitchen table before I fall for that trick again. She knows that the last place I look for her is in the back-yard, and she totally used that to her advantage.

What a little devil! Yorkies are so terribly smart......and sneaky!!

Saturday, September 19, 2009


Yup. Finally. I am FOUR YEARS OLD. That's my Aunt Debbie holding me.

This time four years ago I was in Missouri all snuggled in with my brothers and sisters and probably nestled up against my birth mother having some lunch. I wasn't there very long, though. Some human yanked me away from my family, sent me to California where I had some surgery on an inguinal hernia, then I got some shots and was tossed into a glass box in a pet store in Temecula, CA. All this before I was even NINE WEEKS OLD, too. Lucky me that my REAL MOM walked in and adopted me. I don't think much about those cold and lonely days anymore. Just maybe on my birthday, I send my fur mom a little love from my heart.

For my birthday I donated my present money to Yorkshire Terrier National Rescue, Inc. at to help other kids like me who weren't as lucky to be adopted by a loving family.

We share my birthday at work with people who have businesses there. They all know me and they drop by to have some cake with me. (FYI, I don't get frosting ...just some hunks of cake without any extras, but that's my favorite anyway!)

This is me opening my present from my friends in New York. I got some more cards, too.

After work we went to Bank of America where everybody there wished me a Happy Birthday. Then we went to California Bank and Trust, and we took them all my left-over cake. I just love those ladies and I wanted to do something nice for them. OH SURPRISE! They had a present for me. Another tiny bag of duck jerky and a pink flower barrette with some mint green ribbon leaves on it.

My very good friend, Gina (who is also my personal banker), cut me up some pieces of duck jerky and EVERYBODY said "Happy Birthday". When we got home, Mom accidentally dropped a whole big piece of duck jerky which I grabbed and enjoyed while I was hiding under the kitchen table. See, I'm not allowed to have BIG pieces of jerky...just tiny small ones...ever since I had one go down the wrong way and then horked it up on the teller's counter (along with some other stuff I'd swallowed earlier). But it's the BIG pieces I like best, so I hide when I'm lucky enough to find one.

(This is MY card from AbbeyMia, Harper and Piper! I'm putting it away someplace so I can sniff them anytime I want. Wow...the scent of them sure brings back some happy memories!!)

And the BEST for last! MY CAKE!!!!!

What a great birthday. Thank you to all my friends, and to my Mom especially, for loving me no matter what.

I hope everybody has a great day today!!

Love, Mary-Margaret

PS - Last night before I gave my mother heart failure (see 9/20 post) my mom put the telephone on speaker, and my GrandPapa played "Happy Birthday" to meeeee, his GrandPuppy. I sat very still, turning my ears to the telephone, so I wouldn't miss one single note. I wish Mom had gotten a recording for me. Maybe next time? I sure do love my GrandPapa.

Friday, September 11, 2009

"Pooky", my new neighbor! And "Rufey"!

Something exciting has happened. I have been talking through the fence to a really nice pup for the past couple of weeks. We've only been doing some preliminary "yapping", though, and hadn't gotten to the basics like names or gender or choice of flea deterrent. Yesterday morning we met! Finally, nose-to-nose, we gazed into each other's eyes and even touched noses.

His name is "Pooky" and he's half-chihuahua and half Basenji. Personally, I think he took after his mother since shape-wise he's about the size of my good friend, Jami Ramsey. His color is white with some cafe-au-lait markings and his nose is medium brown in color. He has nice teeth, and his tail curves in an upside-down question mark formation. Last night we each sat on our own side of the fence and "wurffed" quietly at each other until it was time for supper.

My kitty friend, the black cat with white markings, met me when I got home yesterday. She was waiting for me by the front door under the bush. Lately we've been playing tag. Personally, I don't think kitty leaping to the top of my 6-foot fence is fair, since I can barely make it to the couch cushions, but then I've heard cats don't play fair. Good thing I have a new neighbor, dontcha think?


Mary-Margaret "Welcome Wagon" O'Brien

PS: I made another new friend today. His name is Rufus, but he prefers to be called "Rufey". He's very nice. His mom is a client of ours, so I guess that makes Rufey a client, too. We shared some treats together. (and I REALLY need to get Mom a new camera. Her cell phone absolutely sucks, dontcha think?)


Tuesday, September 08, 2009

Today is Frontline Day!

Woo hoo. I got "Frontlined" this morning. No fleas for me. Not being the kind of person to keep this good stuff all to myself I made sure I rubbed up really good against Mom's nice work outfit. (hee hee)

Frontline is a little oily so when someone looks at her blouse (chest?) a bit funny today, she just tells them that she's "flea free" for another month, thanks to MEEEEEEEE!!



Friday, September 04, 2009

The Duck Lady Returns!

This has been the absolutely most longest two days of my WHOLE life. We went to the bank this morning about 10:00AM and Xochitl (pronounced Soshi) said Gina wasn't coming in until 12:30. Rats! So I helped Xochitl for a bit, and checked our bank balance to make sure she didn't make a mistake. I would have waited two hours for Gina but Mom said...she PROMISED, actually...that we'd come back later today.

We got there about 3:45PM and THERE WAS MY DUCK LADY GINA! Woo hoo. I tried not to show her exactly how excited I was. I've been disappointed 3 times in a row. I think I'll just maybe act aloof and pretend I didn't miss her. Maybe......

OH HECK! I'm not one to play games. I LOVE HER!!!



Tuesday, September 01, 2009

Where's my Duck Lady?

I go to the bank every day and I have this little routine. We go in and, if there are no open teller windows, I wait in line. I used to let Mom hold me, but now that I'm almost four and I've shown how professional I can be, I can wait in line by myself. I'm very patient and very polite. (Just nobody better try to cut in front of me, though!)

I just sit there waiting for the window to open. Gina is my everly most favorite teller. She and I go waaaaaaay back to when I was a baby. She has little snippets of duck jerky for me. I waited and waited, and no Gina. I followed Kayla and a customer back to the safe deposit boxes but they whooshed me out. I guess I'm not allowed back there unless I sign a card or something. I got back into line and stood up on my tippie-toes to see as high up as I could and I looked EVERYWHERE. No Gina.

Mom was already at the window with Aida, the Assistant Manager, and she called me over, but I just sat in line on the marble floor, waiting for Gina. Marilyn and Jessica and Aida all told me that it's Gina's day off but I would have none of that. Gina just HAS to be there, I said. And I sat down at the front of the line, all by myself in this great big bank, and I refused to budge. I will wait here all day and all night, and all week if I have to. But Gina is my very special teller and I will NOT move until I've done business with her.

The ladies seemed to feel sorry for me, and I think Mom even teared up a little. They all finally seemed to realize just how important Gina is to me. I LOVE her. I really do. I can't imagine banking without her. I have to admit I got a little teary-eyed myself.

Finally my mom came over and scooped me up, saying "Oh, Mary-Margaret! I'm soooo sorry, but Gina isn't here today. Maybe tomorrow, ok?". My heart is broken. All the way out the bank I looked everywhere but ....(sigh) luck. No Gina. No "Duck Lady". No duck jerky. I put my head on Mom's shoulder, dejected and disappointed, and then we went to Albertson's.

They had just taken my chicken out of the oven and it was perfectly plumped and done.
Albertson's knows how to make a puppy feel better. I got lots of loves and kisses there. Mom gets sort of embarrassed at the fuss people make over me, and sometimes she sort of turns away and pretends she doesn't know me. I can't help it. I am a people person. And when I LOVE, I LOVE HARD and FOREVER.

Tomorrow, I will see my Gina again and all will be well in my world.

Love and kisses,