Presents from the humans

We took a stroll to the garden, and No. 1 said that she had never seen me move that slow. It really wasn’t me… I think somebody moved that park about twice as far away as it used to be. No. 2 made the magic rain on his garden, and then it was time to go back. My feeties just did not want to move.

“Motor won’t go!” pronounced No. 1, and she picked me right up. She gave me a ride all the way home. Isn’t she nice?

The next time we were ready to go to the park, all of a sudden a strange contraption appeared. No. 1 stuck me in it and away we went.

It may look like I'm riding, but in my heart I'm still running.

It may look like I'm riding, but in my heart I'm still running.

How do you like my new ride? It makes me feel like a VID (Very Important Dog), because no other dog in the park has one.

The first time I rode in the perambulator I tried jumping out and stubbed my toe. After that I have been very happy just to stay in it and let the humans help me in and out. It’s pretty good. This way I still get out of the house and smell the fresh air and see the sights, but that darn park doesn’t seem so far away any more. Once we get there, I get out and mooch around a little.

I forgot to mention it earlier, but another present the humans got for me quite a long time ago was this little doggie staircase.

Red alert, not for Klingons!

Red alert, not for Klingons!

The steps were to make it easier for me to get up into my chair, where I am allowed to lie down while the humans eat dinner.

The only problem with the steps is that, as you can see, our guest baby Klingons like them too. However, at meal time the rules are absolutely clear: the dog gets a clear path, and all Klingons have to get out of the way.

After I’ve gotten up on the chair, the Klingons often come back and lie on the steps below me, which is exactly the way it should be. Dogs above, Klingons below.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 28th, 2011

Something to Be Thankful For

Boy, the grub sure has improved around here!

For the longest time, all the humans ever gave me was crunchy dog kibble. Well, that plus a few scraps of human food at dinner time.

But then my teethies started getting old and sensitive, and I didn’t like to crunch it up. Then they didn’t give me hard kibble any more, and I started getting moist food from a can. Then, as I got pickier, they started giving me even moister, tastier food from a plastic tray.

Just when I thought things couldn’t get any better, all that strange stuff happened that I wrote about in my last story. After I got back from That Place for the third time, suddenly they started feeding me all kinds of good stuff. All human food, all the time!

Think about it! It’s like after 16 years, I finally graduated to the grownups!

Here’s what I get sometimes:

Yummy!

Yummy!

Some of you might remember I had a bad experience with this when I was a puppy, but when given in small-dog amounts it’s goooood.

Here’s what I get other times:

Yummier!

Yummier!

Can you believe it? They save the very best part of the chickum just for me.

There’s just one thing that is a little bit strange. When No. 2 gives me the chickum liver, first he takes a little white crunchy thing and then he kind of mooshes the liver around it. Most of the time I don’t even notice the little white crunchy thing, because I gulp that ball of mooshed-up liver down so fast. But sometimes I detect it and I spit it out. That makes No. 2 all upset. “Willie! You have to eat it!” he says.

Eventually when he’s satisfied that I’ve swallowed the little white crunchy thing, then I get a few bites of pure unadulterated liver, and that is much much better. Never mess with a classic, I always say.

So tell me, what are you thankful for today?

Turkey coma.

Turkey coma.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 24th, 2011

Double Chocolatey Chip Frappacino

Recently, I had quite a day. Something very strange happened, which I don’t know quite how to explain.

It all started with a Double Chocolatey Chip Frappacino.

Can I have some of that?

Can I have some of that?

No. 1 was out of town, so it was just me and No. 2, and we went to the grocery store to get some goodies. On the way back we stopped by a place called Starbucks, which is named after one of the guest Klingons we had last summer. No. 2 ordered his favorite drink, a Double Chocolatey Chip Frappacino. I wanted some, but No. 2 reminded me that the chocolatey part is not good for dogs, so I didn’t get any. He didn’t even have the decency to get the whip cream on top, which I am allowed to have a lick of. Hmph.

Then we started driving again. I remember going around a corner, and then all of a sudden the world got wobbly.

Come I hat of son vath?

Come I hat of son vath?

I couldn’t feel my legs any more, and I couldn’t even tell where I was. The next thing I knew I was in That Place.

I was walking around this way and that, but I still couldn’t feel my right back leg. I heard them say later that it was sticking out in the air. That didn’t bother me any, but it felt sort of like walking three-legged through deep snow and having to lift my legs way up high before I could put them down.

Gradually the world straightened out, and my leg came back down, and it was all over. Nobody was quite sure what happened. So we came home and I forgot all about about it.

A couple weeks later, when No. 1 and No. 2 were both at home, something like it happened again, only this time it was apparently a whole lot worse. I don’t know, I can’t remember. When the world straightened out again, I was back in That Place, and the humans left me there overnight. I was glad to come home the next day, but ever since then I have to have this horrible-tasting liquid poured down my gullet once a day. The humans know it tastes bad, so they got the idea of mixing it with chicken broth, so now instead of tasting like turpentine, it just tastes like weird chicken broth.

But now it seems as if I feel groggy half the time, and one of the times when I felt groggy I missed my feeties and fell off the bed. After that I started coughing and had to go back to That Place for two more days. If it isn’t one thing it’s another.

All because of a Double Chocolatey Chip Frappacino.

And I didn't even get any!

And I didn't even get any!

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 22nd, 2011

Invaded!

She’s gone and done it again. Now the house is full of baby Klingons! Who knew they came in such a small size? Look at these scrappy things.

They're tussling.

They're tussling.

I don’t know how many there are. Maybe three, but it seems like a lot more because they’re everywhere you look. There’s a whole lotta legs and tails all over the place. I tried adding them up but they move too fast and I can’t count that high. Sheesh, so much for the peace and quiet.

All of them are black, like fleas, and who knows how to tell the difference between them. I don’t think they had ever seen a dog before, because when they first saw me they got their backs up and made the little hissy noises (kind of half-hearted, really). I didn’t pay any attention to this behavior, and within a day they were over it and were not fazed by me whatsoever. Now we all get along fine. And it’s kind of nice being bigger than a Klingon for once in my life!

Sometimes they tear around like crazy.

Prepare to die, fuzzy ball.

Prepare to die, fuzzy ball.

Other times they lounge around in all the best spots.

Legwarmer.

Legwarmer.

It’s kind of my job to watch them.

Nobody fall off. No, we have absolutely no mutual interest in that cereal bowl.

Nobody fall off. No, we have absolutely no mutual interest in that cereal bowl.

If there’s anything good about being overrun with baby Klingons, it’s that they get very tasty canned food.

All of youz mind your manners.

All of youz mind your manners.

You gonna finish that?

You gonna finish that?

No. 1 tells me that they’re temporary. All in all, I think that’s for the best.

3kitties1

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 7th, 2011

And then there were none

The last of my Klingon packmates has gone to join her sisters.

Unlike the two calicoes, our Pale Tiger didn’t let anybody know she was feeling poorly. One day she just upped her sleeping schedule from 22 hours a day to 23½ hours a day. And can you believe, it? She quit eating.

No. 1 was out of town, and so No. 2 had to take her to That Place. Then he talked with No. 1 on the long-distance voice box, and said something like “large abdominabobble mass,” whatever that means. I think it translates to “better say goodbye.”

So the Pale Tiger stayed around, sleeping 23½ hours a day, until No. 1 came back home, and for a couple days after that, but then No. 1 and No. 2 took her away and came back without her. Then they emptied the sandbox that Klingons do their business in and they put it away, and that’s when I knew that I didn’t live with Klingons any more.

Klingon semaphore

Klingon semaphore

No. 2 always said she had “silly ears.” He would turn her ears inside out and they would stay that way — she never seemed to notice!

pixel8 small

This is how she got the nickname, “The Pale Tiger,” back in the days when she was much younger and No. 2 didn’t know how to focus a camera.

Here she is standing by the door to the linen closet, waiting for a human to let her in. She liked to take long undisturbed naps on top of the blankies. Sometimes she would stay in there all night and come out to greet the humans in the morning.

She was all right as far as Klingons go.

In Memoriam Pixel Mackenzie, 1990-2010

In Memoriam Pixel Mackenzie, 1990-2010

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: October 26th, 2011

A Klingon named Trouble — the final chapter

I think that the Klingon that I call Trouble has now left us to join her sister. I don’t know these things for sure, but I could see No. 2 boo-hooing again, and that for me is a strong hint.

They say that Klingons have nine lives. I can believe it now, because she went through three of them just in one week.

First of all, one afternoon the humans raised a huge fuss because they saw Trouble lurching across the patio. They took her inside but she couldn’t stand up. She went under the table and flopped right down on her side. We were getting all set to take her to That Place, but suddenly after 30 minutes she just popped right up as if nothing had happened! “Okay, so much for life number one! I’m on to life number two now!”

Two days later, Trouble ran away. She’s done this before (and gave the humans a worry and a half I might add). But not when she was so skinny, and not when she had just had a sinking fit two days earlier.

The humans went to look for her, but they couldn’t find her. Their faces were very sad. Usually the neighborhood Klingons go down to the bottom of the gulch where there’s a little stream. They figured that’s where Trouble had gone, to look for a drink of water. The humans can’t go there because of some plant called poison oak.

Several hours later, No. 2 went outside to take out the trash. He came back inside and said, “I saw a rainbow!” You have to understand that No. 2 is a big fan of rainbows. Don’t know why, but he collects rainbow sightings like some dogs collect bones.

Well, it wasn’t but another five minutes before there was a little meow at the door. No. 2 went to open it, and darned if that Klingon wasn’t sitting right there on the doorstep! You should have seen the looks on the humans’ faces. Trouble walked in the door and started eating kibble. No. 1 started boo-hooing. No. 2 didn’t have his camera, but later on he made this picture with stickers.

Walking home under the rainbow bridge.

Walking home under the rainbow bridge.

So now she was on to life number three. For three days, No. 2 fussed over her like she was an angel come to Earth. He went and got her a fountain for the patio, because it seemed as if the thing that she wanted most was fresh running water.

It makes a nice sound.

It makes a nice sound.

No. 2 thought she might try to drink from it, but she didn’t. She just sat there and listened to it for hours on end.

But on day number four of Trouble’s life as an angel, there was more trouble. She wouldn’t eat any more.

Sweet dreams, Trouble

Sweet dreams, Trouble

So they bundled her up and took her away. And that was the end of Trouble’s last week with us. I never saw a week like that before, and I hope I never will again.

Trouble on the windowsill, a few years ago.

Trouble on the windowsill, a few years ago.

The humans’ name for her was Maikai, which No. 2 explains is the Hawaiian word for “beautiful.”

In Memoriam Maikai Mackenzie, 1990-2009

In Memoriam Maikai Mackenzie, 1990-2009

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: September 26th, 2011

A lot less Trouble

Can a Klingon just fade away?

A lot less Trouble

A lot less Trouble

Our second calico, the one I call Trouble, just isn’t what she used to be. She used to be a lot bigger than me but now she’s down to just about my size. Like her sister who left us, she has taken to yowling at the door and drinking a lot. The thing about this one though… when she drinks, she thinks she is a desert cat in the Sahara and has to scratch out a watering hole. She meows and scratches and scrapes and drinks… it’s pretty funny except when it’s annoying.

The humans have noticed it too, and have started taking her to That Place. One time they came back with a bag of some kind of special water that they hung over a lampshade, hooked up the other end to the Klingon, and it’s fill ‘er up! What will they think of next?

It’s pretty amusing to watch No. 2 at this, because it requires about three hands. Sometimes the special water will start spraying all over the Klingon and him and the sofa and the living room. Then No. 2 starts employing what I believe is called salty language.

No. 1 is much more calm and collected. According to No. 2 she comes from a long line of nurses. They must be born with three hands, because No. 1 never has any trouble with the procedure.

When they started doing this, it really made a surprising difference. It took about a day for Trouble to get her personality back, which is to say, she started getting in trouble again. She did things like sharpen her claws, bat at pen caps, and talk to the birds, which she used to do all the time.

Oh yes, and she continues to have a talent for turning up in unexpected places. Like here:

You did say it was a garden bed, didn't you?

You did say it was a garden bed, didn't you?

And here:

Nothing here but us watering cans.

Nothing here but us watering cans.

Even though Trouble and I aren’t the best of friends, I’m glad she’s feeling better.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 31st, 2011

Hot spot

I got a hot spot. A hot spot is when you’re itchy all over so you chew, and then one place is just easier to reach than all the others so you chew that one the most.

No. 1 does not like it when I chew on my fur. She squirts me with stuff. Finally I had to go to That Place. The nice human with the concerned face gave us some medicine and told No. 1 that I should wear a t-shirt.

So No. 1 went to the Nearly New store and came home with a baby human shirt, and she took her scissors and cut the arms right off! The she stuck my head through the neck and my arms through the holes.

It's not as bad as all that.

It's not as bad as all that.

Here’s what it says on the t-shirt.

No. 2 wishes he had one like this.

No. 2 wishes he had one like this.

I don’t know how long I have to wear this, but my hot spot feels better already.

I'm going for Best (Dressed) in Show.

I'm going for Best (Dressed) in Show.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: August 16th, 2011

She’s gone

You remember my bestest Klingon? The one that was the first to decide that I was all right with her?

I'm not worried about this one.

I'm not worried about this one.


When I was a young pup and new in the pack she came up one day and started head-butting me all around the room. At first I wasn’t quite sure what it meant, but eventually (there were no claws involved) I figured out it was okay.

A friendly game of tug.

A friendly game of tug.

Well, that Klingon has gone and disappeared! I never see her around any more.

This is the last picture we have of her.

In the linen closet with her sisters.

In the linen closet with her sisters.

The day she went away, No. 1 carried her into the car in her arms. They said that for her last ride, she didn’t have to be cooped up. She wouldn’t have gone anywhere anyway. She was having a lot of trouble standing up. No. 1 says that she was about a hundred and twelvity-five years old.

When they came home, No. 2 was boo-hooing, in a way that I’ve never seen him before. I didn’t really understand why he was so upset, but a dog doesn’t have to understand some things. A dog knows his humans. I gave him a kiss and he said that made it better.

It’s too bad. If you have to live with Klingons, that one was the sort you want.

Woofs,
Willie

In Memoriam Chutney, 1990-2009

In Memoriam Chutney, 1990-2009

Edited: August 3rd, 2011

Other critters

As if it isn’t bad enough living with Klingons, sometimes a dog has to deal with other kinds of animals. Here’s one that comes around a lot during the summer months. Don’t let his innocent look fool you!

kessler5

It’s really a bit thick. These creatures like to appear out of nowhere. I’m just sitting in the living room, minding my own business, when suddenly one of these masked faces will appear at the window. Of all the nerve — just sauntering around my patio as if they own the place!

That is not right! The second I see them, everything else goes out of my mind. I launch myself at the back window and bark with all my might. I paw at the window, scritch-scritch-scritch a mile a minute. You must not be on my patio! It is our territory, not yours!

“Grrrrrr… ROWF! ROWF! ROWF! ROWROWROWROWROWROWROWF …!”

Wassup?

Wassup?

Eventually my mighty and courageous barking makes them go away. I huff and puff for awhile just to reinforce my victory. Once again I have done my duty in keeping the family safe from patio marauders.

Here is another species that comes visiting sometimes. They are much less frequent guests.

Tomato juice anyone?

One evening I was just hanging around out in front, and I spotted one of these guys nearby. I thought that he looked a little bit like a Klingon, except with an extra-bushy tail. He went under a car and I was trying to get a better look at him so I stuck my head under the car too.

All of a sudden, No. 1 caught me up and carried me swiftly back into the house. She carried me up the stairs to where No. 2 was. “Honey,” she said, “what does this dog smell like?”

No. 2 leaned over and smelled me. “Pheeeew,” he said.

You should have seen the fuss then. They marched me downstairs and stuck me in the sink. Number 1 took a bowl of those little round squishy fruits that grow on vines and squeezed the juice all over me!

Now if there is one thing I do not appreciate, it’s having red juice squished all over me. I was pink for a day! I forbade them to take my picture. However, I have to admit that it did cover up the cologne smell pretty well.

Woofs,
Willie

Note from No. 2: I think the car actually got skunked worse than Willie did!
Thanks to:
Janet Kessler for the raccoon photos.
Stephen Fischer for the skunk photo (downloaded from Flickr).
Photos copyrighted by their respective photographers and used with permission.

Edited: June 18th, 2011

Our floor

We used to have this nice, soft, cushy floor.

carpet1

All of a sudden one day, No. 2 starts taking all of our stuff onto the back patio. Okay, this has happened before. Usually it means some humans are going to come in and run a noisemaking thing over the floor. For some reason the humans think that the noisemaking thing makes the floor cleaner. Whatever.

Next the Klingons have to go in their bubbles, because they have no sense and might run away from home from all the confusion. I like this part.

carpet2

But then something different happens! Instead of bringing in the noisemaker, this human starts ripping up our floor all to pieces! What’s going on?

It's gone!

It's gone!

These boxes come into the house.

carpet4

Apparently, No. 1 and No. 2 decided that they don’t want the soft cushy floor any more and they want a hard, shiny floor. What’s up with that??! Little by little this hard substance is laid down. I’ll stay over here and watch.

carpet5

For the last bit I have to stay up here!

carpet6

I’m not at all sure that I approve of this change. I liked the warm, soft floor we had. This one looks a little slippery. We’ll see.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: May 10th, 2011

The amazing double-coated Klingon

One of our Klingons has more hair than the law should allow. No. 1 swears she has twice the usual amount for the species. No. 1 has to go around the house all the time and use sticky rollers to get the Klingon hair off.

Finally No. 1 she went to the store and came home with a Furminator.

She sat right down on the floor with that furry Klingon and gave her a good going-over. By the time they were done, a tribble had been removed, and the Klingon was so exhausted that she laid down and used it for a pillow.

IMG_0322

furminator

I guess the Furminator helped, but there are still those other two Klingons. At least they have the normal amount of hair. And of course I, being a regal papillon, am a single-coated dog and hardly shed at all!

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: April 28th, 2011

Frosting

A human who knows all about the genetics of papillons got in touch with No. 2 and told him that she thought I was a frosted sable.

Apparently, some of us have a gene inside us that makes the colors on our heads and ears fade out early.

I don’t know anything about that. I think if I had frosting on me I would know it, because frosting is very sweet and delicious. Nevertheless they stuck some pictures of me up on a page on the interwebs as an example.

Frosted papillons

My humans say they don’t care a whit, and my fur feels the same, so no big whoop!

You be the judge.

Me as a youngster.

Me as a youngster.

Me at four years old.

Me at four years old.

And BTW, humans still stop me wherever I go and say I’m so cuuuute.

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: April 10th, 2011

My NotSoExcellent Adventure

You’d think with a name like Bertram Wilberforce Woofster Mackenzie III, I’d thoroughly enjoy an outing at a place called Loch Lomond… but not so much.

Most of it is okay, in fact good as far as a dog is concerned. We ride in the car, get out, and eat a picnic lunch. The humans let me get right up on the picnic table!

Then we go for a walk along the nice path next to the loch (which as far as I can tell means a ginourmous puddle of water).

It's a nice day for an expedition!

It's a nice day for an expedition!

Humans are so slow.

Humans are so slow.

It's a good path.

It's a good path.

Being a dog of a naturally curious nature, I tiptoed out onto a sideways tree to see what these humans were doing.

I smell fish.

I smell fish.

On the way back, No. 2 wanted to go out to this island.

big-island

Now the thing about an island is, it’s got water all the way around it. That’s why they call it an island. But the humans were sure that I wanted to go too so No. 2 rolled up his pants, picked me up, and waded out the the little island on the way to the big island.

halfway-there

No. 1 stayed behind ( a sensible plan, if you ask me) and I gazed at her across the divide. Then No. 2 picked me up and off we went to the big island.

We poked around a bit, it was okay, but we were not with No. 1. that is the important thing. When No. 2 finally started back, I got all excited and ran down the hill lickety-split. I was so eager to get back to No. 1 that when I reached the bank, despite never having swum in my life, I plunged into the water!

No. 1 claims her heart stopped.

My dog-paddle instincts kicked right in. I got my feeties going and I was doing a very respectable job if I do say so myself. However, that water was not cooperating. It took me to the side! So I sensibly paddled around in a little circle and headed back towards No. 2. By that time he had reached the shore and he didn’t even stop to roll up his pants, but waded right in, plucked me out of the water, and carried me to the safety of the little island.

From there the water was shallow enough that I could walk the rest of the way back to No. 1.

wading-back

When I reached her she exclaimed over and over again how glad she was to get me back, not drowned. Then she said, “What a mess!”

What?

What?

dirty-feet-2

Hey, it wasn’t my idea.

Woofs,
Willie

No. 2 here: Just in case anyone’s confused, the pictures were taken at Loch Lomond in California, not in Scotland!

Edited: April 12th, 2010

The long, long car ride

Some humans came and took away all of our boxes and our bed and our frigidator and everything. But No. 1 and No. 2 are still here so it’s all good. That’s what really matters to a dog.

car-ride2

No. 1 put one of the Klingons in her bubble in the back seat and put me in the front seat and we went for a car ride.

It was a really long car ride. My favorite place to roost on long rides is the little part of the car that goes between the front seats. It’s just papillon-sized.

Finally the car stopped and No. 1 rolled down the window. Another human walked up and guess what! It was No. 2! I did not know that he came too! This was a happy!

He brought our other car and there were the other Klingons. I jumped in to inspect the situation.

car-ride1

car-ride3

We went into a little room that had a bed in it. Now I know why you would want to give a Klingon a pill. The humans had given the one in my car a pill to make her sleepy so she wouldn’t go “Meooooowr! Meoooowrrowr!” the whole time in the car. This didn’t turn out to be the best plan, because that night when we were all trying to sleep, this Klingon was all loopy and she kept clawing No. 1’s arm and fastening her teeth in No. 1’s elbow. Finally No. 2 took the drunken Klingon off our hands and we got some shut-eye.

The next morning it was back in the car. They didn’t give her any more of the goofy pills and she did fine, just went to sleep in her bubble. Me too. I dozed on the console, just waking up enough to accept crumbs of cheese-cracker sammiches that No. 1 got for lunch and then back to dozing. If the sun got too hot in the front seat, I crawled into the back seat and slept on top of the pillow next to the Klingon.

Each night we would stop and No. 2 and the other Klingons would appear and we would go into a different little room with a bed. This went on for several days. One morning we got a slow start because that same pesky Klingon got herself lost. See, she’s goofy enough already, she didn’t need any pills to make here worse. The humans called her and called her, and they kept asking me where she was. What am I, a bloodhound? No help here. We looked up and down the halls and asked everybody, but we were still down a Klingon.

Finally No. 1 started turning the room upside down. She found a rip in the mattress. They lifted the top of the bed up and… nothing. Then No. 1 said, “I see a lump!” That dumb Klingon had crawled inside the bed and was sleeping inside the top part like it was a hammock. Oy, what a bother. We finally got out of there and weren’t sorry to see the back of it.

My favorite stop on our long, long car ride was a place that was not just a room, but a whole house.

howdy3

Okay, there was some sort of a Springer spaniel there that got on my nerves, but other than that it was fun!

howdy1

howdy2

We went outside and there was lots of room. I could run! Run the wide open range, like a coyote!

howdy4

howdy5

But the next day it was back on the road. We got to one place where there was no bed. In fact there wasn’t much of anything.

last-stop

No. 1 went into one of the rooms upstairs and I kept hearing her say a word that I know all too well. “No. No no no no no.” I went to see what all the fuss was about.

orange-room

“Howard Johnson!” she kept moaning. I didn’t see it was as bad as all that… it’s just wavelengths, as No. 2 would say. Apparently it was supposed to be this color:

blue-swatch

We slept on some class of a thing on the floor. The next morning I expected we would pack back into the cars. I was getting used to this life on the road, and like I said, all a dog really needs is his pack.

But… I was so surprised! We stayed!

Woofs,
Willie

[No. 2 here: We want to thank the Howdy Pardner Bed and Breakfast for showing Willie such a wonderful time when we passed through Cheyenne, Wyoming. A dog loves his wide open spaces!]

Edited: November 28th, 2009

Something unusual’s going on

ohio-house
Something suspicious is happening in our home.

I think it all started when the humans took me for a ride in the car with the Klingons. You have to realize that Klingons and cars don’t mix. The only place they ever go in a car is to the vet. But this time, we just drove around for an hour, and the humans said something about getting them used to long car rides. Why?

After we had been driving for half an hour with no apparent decrease in yowling inside the car, No. 2 made up a song called “99 Kitties Crying and a Dog.” He sang it to the melody of “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall.” It went, “99 kitties crying and a dog. 99 kitties crying. Give one a pill, make her get ill, you’ll still have 99 kitties crying and a dog.” I didn’t like this song. How did this dog get mixed up with 99 Klingons? Why did they give one a pill? How did it end? What does it mean?

Then the humans’ friends started coming over. One night it was No. 1’s friends, the ones who use sharp implements like she does.

thursday-quilters

Another friend, who has lots of dogs, came over and had lunch. This human is goofy and knows how to have fun.

Lynnie

Lynnie

Then we went to some more friends’ house and had dinner.

linda-dinner

That wasn’t all that much fun. At these humans’ house, there are at least eight white boxers. Maybe it’s only three or four, but when they come at you and smell you all over and bat at you with their great clumsy paws, it seems like boxers everywhere you turn. Here’s one of them.

They all look the same from down here, trust me.

They all look the same from down here, trust me.

Finally, something strange started to happen in our house. The humans’ stuff started getting put into boxes.

frigidator

The only benefit I can see to this development is that for the first time I can get into the frigidator! All the way into it! It should always be this way!

Woofs,
Willie

Edited: November 3rd, 2009