Happy New Year!

1/1/2006 - Oh happy day. I celebrated last night by FINALLY removing the sparkly bow from my collar. The pink one was easy and practically fell off yesterday, but the sparkly one was harder. I'm "free...free...FREE at last". Ick! I know now how Martha Stewart felt when she had that ankle thing on. My remaining bow was a shiny foil pom pom of many colors. I didn't want to upset Mom too much so I thoughfully left most of it on the landing of the stairway. You know, that spot we call "the kissing place"? A gazillion little pieces of multi-colored foil. It looked kind of nice and festive there, I thought!

I have been very very good. Doing everything I'm supposed to...ok, mostly, anyway. You'd think I'd be rewarded. But no. This morning was a surprise. I woke Mom up at the usual time (6:30AM) in the usual way (kissing her on her chin and pulling out her hair), and did my usual business on my "piddle pad". Then, I ran downstairs expecting the usual breakfast (diced chicken).

What an ugly trick to play on an unsuspecting puppy. I think my mom takes these puppy hints about "good healthy food" a bit too far. I don't know for sure what it was, but it came in a pouch, smelled vaguely of chicken and had gravy or something all over it. UGH!!!

"You've GOT to be kidding", I told her. I sniffed it and went back to the corner where she stands when she's fixing my food. Absolutely nothing else coming my way. "Go eat your breakfast", she says. Oh yuck. I go back and sniff again. Then I walk into the dining room and glare at her. Maybe if she sees how mad I am she'll change her mind and stop with the funny stuff.

Nope. I go back, and sniff again. I guess it's not that bad, and I taste it a little bit. Oh good grief. Eeeeyyyyeewww! I'm not so hungry that I will ever EVER eat that stuff. I wait some more. She pops our bagel out of the toaster. That's more like it, I think. But she's not sharing. All right, maybe she gave me one lousy piece of bagel with a drop of cream cheese. That's not enough for a starving puppy.

"Fine!", I say. And I go upstairs and show her, but good. There's this thing under her vanity that she throws cotton and wrappers and stuff in. I start pulling things out. Then I see that she's put down a full water bowl for me and forgotten to pick it back up. Hah! That will definitely make a statement. I flip it over onto the bath rug. I step in it, and make sure that I leave little wet footprints all over the tile, and then I start spreading out the trash. A little here...and a little there. I will fix her but good. And then I go get into my private space under the tv cabinet and pout. She's not my most favorite person at the moment. Can you tell?