Twick or Tweet

One for the money...........



Two for the show.............



Three to get ready but I'm too tired to go!

Hope you all have a Happy Halloween!

Love,

Mary-Margaret

If it's on the floor, it's MINE!

One of our clients brought in a stack of 23 papers to be served. She also brought an envelope addressed to my mom with a check in it. Somehow (Oh, lucky me!) the envelope landed on the floor and it just sat there, calling my name. Thinking this might be another Halloween greeting, I decided to open it. Hey! It's not like anyone was paying attention to me. I shredded it open and saw there was something in it and walked away. That's just the kind of pup I am, you know? You'd think "some people" would appreciate my consideration, but NOOOOOOO!

"AAAAAAAAAAACK", she yells. "Mary-Margaret, you get over here and clean up your mess!", she says. "As if....!", I replied and sat down next to one of my favorite clients' shoe (he was wearing it, by the way). Uh oh....she looks mad. I stand up as high as I can and I'm begging Mr. "H" to PULEEEZE pick me up. He laughs at me, but I end up on his lap, safe for the moment.

Well, how was I to know there was a check in there if I didn't open it? Hmmmmm??? And I only tore off a teensy little corner of it, sort of by the check number, so I'm sure it's still good, right? RIGHT?

Rule #2: If it's on the floor, it's MINE!!

Hmmmmph! Maybe she'll learn her lesson this time.

Mary-Margaret

GID OWTA DA WAY STUBASKET

"Gid owta da way stubasket!"

Sheesh....My mom has a meatball sandwich for lunch and all of a sudden she speaks another language. "Gid owta da way stubasket", she says. Over and over. Like I'm supposed to know what that means? Hmmmmm?

Meanwhile, until I figure it out, there's some trash in a container under her desk that tastes absolutely heavenly! YUM!

(The melted provolone just makes it, you know?)

Later, gator!

Mary-Margaret

OH...and PS! I got a HALLOWEEN card from my very good friends in Brighton, New York today. We were downstairs when Cella (the mail lady) came by. We sat patiently on the steps that go no where (like the Winchester mansion only there's just three of them that end at a solid wall) and Cella started laughing. She kept looking at me and I said "What's so funny?". She brought me over a really kewl orange envelope addressed to MEEEEEEEEEE, Mary-Margaret O'Brien. It tastes just like my friends AbbeyMia, Harper and Piper from New York. I never ever in my whole like got a Halloween card before. Between the trash and the mail lady, this has gotta be one of my best days ever.

Mary-Margaret O'Boleyn

Argh. I can totally relate to Ann Boleyn's last few moments when she had to walk herself to the chopping block.

"Bath time!", I hear. Oh crud. I look for someplace to hide but I'm not fast enough. "Oh, THERE you are!", she says. "Bath time!". I sit firmly planted on the stairway landing.

"YOU MARCH!", she orders. I hang my head and skootch up the stairs, one at a time. So this is how it feels to have to take yourself to your doom. I am not a willing participant here, but I must obey my ruler.

My collar is removed and I am totally naked. The water is turned on and I say a few final prayers before being immersed and soaped. May I emerge from this torture clean, dry and brushed. And, Dear Lord, please let me have a GOOD hair day.

Amen

Your humble servant...

Mary-Margaret

Thank you, TERESA and DOGGY DAY SPA!

I got a box from Teresa Brendemuehl of Doggy Day Spa in Kerkhoven, MN and I can open it MYSELF!! I don't need any help. I am FOUR!!

This is what she sent me. My very own terry cloth bathrobe with a yellow ducky on the back.....a pink stuffie....a magnetic calendar....perfume (which will come in handy and I will keep at the office for when one of my co-workers - she knows who she is - informs me that I stink)....and PEPPERONI PUPPY-POPCORN. I just LOVE people pop corn and I can't wait for Mom to pop this in the microwave for me.




My Cousin Sophie says Teresa is the very best personal puppy stylist in the WHOLE WIDE WORLD. I don't know about that as I'm pretty partial to my own Miss Marilyn, but I can honestly say that Teresa knows how to make a Pup's day.

Thank you, TERESA!!

I love you.



Did you know us pups get in-som-ni-a too? Gosh...last night I woke up about 2:30AM and started pacing. I jumped up and down on the bed for a while. I went over to Mom and got right up in her face and started heavy-breathing. "Get up", I said. "I want to PLAAAAY!".

"Arrgggh", she said, and told me to get back in bed. But that wasn't my plan. I attacked her hand a few times until she swatted me away. So then I got down and stood by the door, "ruurrrfffing" at her. "Whaaa....whaaaa....?", she asked. "Well, NOTHING!", I said. I just want some attention. "Mmmmmmmfffff", she replied, and stuffed her face back into her pillow.

I got back on the bed and talked her into giving me some belly rubs until she fell asleep. Then I got back on my pillow and went back to sleep, too. Humans are sooooooo chronologically oriented. Everything has to be done "on time". Pups aren't like that. We play when we FEEL like playing, even when it's dark outside. Life would be everly less complicated if humans would toss all their watches and clocks, don't you think?

Mary-Margaret

Happy Columbus Day!

The way I see it, some directionally challenged human sails from Spain, gets lost, loses a few ships in a nasty storm, and beaches himself on an island that he's never seen before. The locals gather about to possibly try to help him and he gives them smallpox. But don't mind me. I'm just a pup who tends to see things in black and white.

My Aunt Rose's (rest her soul) Uncle Joe and Aunt Susie dropped by to say "Hello" with their two remaining kids, Daisy and Coco. Daisy is a Shih Tsu and just the nicest pup I've ever met. Coco Puff was my Aunt Rose's boyfriend. He's 16 years old now. He even once brought Rosie a piece of chicken and dropped it right in front of her, he was so in love with her.

Joe and Susie used to work with Mom until they upped and moved to Colorado. They're on vacation right now for two whole weeks, so they came to California to visit friends and to mine their claims (whatever that means).

Then Mom got a flu shot and she's been reading since she got home. I've been sitting at the front window watching everyone and everything that passes by, woofing at stuff that catches my interest. It's been a nice, restful vacation.

We're charging up the camera battery so I can finish opening my present from Theresa in Kerkhoven, MN. I'm not supposed to open anything unless it's on camera so I can share the joy with all my friends. (rolling eyes)

Hope you all had a fun filled holiday, too.

Love,

Mary-Margaret

The Ins and Outs of it all

Taking what I discovered about my mom yesterday (which is that she can't see her feet without bending over - therefore, I am invisible if I want to be) and applying it to other circumstances, I've discovered other things I can do for entertainment.

For example, we come back from being "out" and I trot right along side of her ankle all the way to our office. "Good girl", she says. Then she opens the door and she goes in thinking I'm right there. Except I put on the brakes and take a step backwards. She goes in and I am FREE FREE FREE AT LAST. Whooo hooo!

I can run up and down the hallways as fast as I want - wheeeeee! I can sneak up to other office doors and listen to people talking. My very good friend Zeus (the Weimaraner) works next to us so sometimes I go and sniff around the bottom of his door. I can sit in the middle of the hallway and see who goes by outside our glass doors. If anyone went out to lunch and got "take-out", I can check for tasty morsels on the carpet.

Then I get bored. Today, I lasted maybe an hour before I said "Arf?". "Arf?", says Mom, and then she asks Shannon where I am. Hmmmmmm, they say after hunting all over. They open the door. I race inside all laughing and stuff. They give me some loving and hugs, and then they say "MARY-MARGARET! What are we going to DO with you?".

I tried it again a little later when Mom went to check out Zeus' dad because there was a loud "thunk" from his office and we got all worried about him. Turns out he just dropped a heavy-duty stapler. It gave me a chance to play in the hall again, but I got caught maybe 10 minutes later.

I figure I can keep this up until either Mom loses enough weight to see her toes (and me) OR I get put back on a leash. (OH GOSH NO...NOOOOOOOO...ANYTHING BUT THAT!)

Cheerfully yours,

Mary-Margaret

Yanking Mom's Chain....again!

What can I say? It's not like I do much at work. I greet people; make them feel comfortable. I take care of little kids when their parents bring them in. Piece of cake...but I need a real CHALLENGE. This is where I get to play with Mom's head.

I had a bit a gas today. So Shannon takes me out and I piddle a bit but nothing serious. She brings me back, and right away I gas Mom again really good. Yup. I get to go out again. This time I hunted for lizards before I had to go back. Shannon just glared at me.

When a client came in later and he and Mom were just winding up some business, I discretely let loose again. They BOTH fanned the air and said "Yuck". This time, Mom took me out. And she waited....and waited.....and waited.

"Oh, come ON, Mary-Margaret!", she complained. But I just checked the outside edges of the planter downstairs. I found an interesting twig that I stuck to my chest (like velcro). I found some really neat spider webs that I draped over my nose. There was something kind of putrid under the plants, so I rolled in that for a while. No lizards this time. Finally I was told to get back on the elevator.

"Fine", I said. And I rode up to the 3rd floor like I always do. Mom got off first (usually it's me first) while I dilly-dallied around because I found some kewl stuff to sniff. She walked all the way through the double doors before she realized I wasn't there.

"Mary-Margaret? Where ARE you?", she said. She hunted all over and finally (duh!) figured out I was still on the elevator. She pushed the button, and the door slid open. I was still sniffing around. She said, "You get OUT OF THERE right NOW!". I rolled my eyes at her and got off. She opened the double doors again and I quickly darted back on to the elevator just as the doors were shutting. (snicker snicker...I am fast and sneaky!)

"NOW where'd you go?", she wondered. It didn't take her long to figure out where I was this time. She punched the button, the doors slid open and I just sat there and gave her my most winning grin. This IS fun. I could do this all day. I don't think SHE could, though. This time she scooped me up and carried me all the way back to the office before she put me down.

Some people have no sense of adventure.

Love,

Mary-Margaret

What's a "Sewer Serve", Mom??

"A "Sewer Serve" is another way of saying that the process server didn't actually serve the paper as they were instructed to do, but just tossed it in the "sewer" (or garbage) and signed a "Declaration under penalty of perjury" or a sworn "Affidavit" that they DID serve the paper". (This is what my Mom said when I asked her. She ALWAYS tells me the truth, too!)

So I asked her how come somebody would DO that? And she says she has absolutely NO idea, since professional process servers are paid to either serve the document, or (if the people don't live there anymore) sign a Declaration/Affidavit of Non-Service. Either way the process servers have done their job. Professional companies like my employer, RASCAL, even get hired to find the person or figure out a way to tell the defendant that he's got a problem so he can defend himself. PROFESSIONAL Process Servers (like my Mom) would NEVER do a "sewer serve"!

So then I ask her how come the "FTC*" is having all these meetings about "Sewer Serves"? And "tens of thousands of people" have defaults entered against them and they don't even know they're being sued? And she says to click on the link above. She thinks a lot of these people just don't want to admit they messed up.

Somewhere in fairly recent times people just stopped taking responsibility for themselves and they learned to blame other people instead. Tsk. No wonder so many humans prefer the company of pups, I say. We're everly so less complicated.

Love and schlurpies....

Mary-Margaret

*Federal Trade Commission, not "Furry Terrier Club" (this time, anyway!)