travels and dogsitters

so, my person has been traveling alot this month...and it pisses me off, yes indeed.  now, i know she had to work, whatever that means.. i guess work means that i get to eat the premium chicken strips instead of purina bacon bits, but damn, why does she have to go away so much?

it's been along time since i've written anything on my page.  i dont know why, maybe cause my person's been WORKING alot, running around, painting walls, and cleaning under the bed, getting rid of my dust bunnies and fake fur coat that she had on the floor, that i loved to hide in.  maybe it's cause it's spring and summer, and she's talking us on long LONGGGGG walks through tiny alleys and avenues and ways. whatever it is, she is in and out, and i cant keep up!

we had to go the groomers this weekend, i think cause i wouldnt stop licking my butt.  now, listen, i love to lick my butt.  i get all in there, making sure every corner is clean, and bit of surface, but i guess the sound drives my person a little crazy, cause there was this one long..."brunnellllllllelelelelelelelellllo" and i think i saw a magazine fly by me.  a magazine or paper or cloth, i dont know, because my eyes were focused on me cleaning my butt.

So, im clean and so is jazmine, and im ready for the summer!
hopefully, i can talk some more, ive really missed it here.

super dog at the airport

you know, i have wondered what it would be like to be a big dog.  yes, i do, every day.  i mean, i feel big in my heart, in my mind.  ive perfected my growl over the years so when someone hears it, they instantly feel that Hannibal the great is upon them.  but then they look up , across and down and see me.  and no matter how hard i try to push my muscles out, bare my teeth, stretch my paws, its no good.  they see me, and start to laugh.

so, yes, i wish i was a big dog.  my dream job would be working at an airport.  you know, you cant help but shake when you see a dog at the airport.  it doesnt matter who you are, some old lady coming off from a week on a cruise ship, or a teenager coming home from spring break.  you see a dog at the airport, and immediately you check your purse, hoping you dont have something that their super sniff senses can smell.  even if you didnt partake in any kind of drug taking, you know that dog will know if you even brushed up against someone doing something that they are not allowed to do.  and you look at them and they look at you, and the first thought is respect.

so, yes, my dream job would be to walk around in an airport, pointing my nose to passersby, waiting for the slightest electric whif of something to come towards my nose.  then i could run, jump, pounce on that person. and there is nothing that anyone could do. 

cause id caught the bad guy, and i was KING.

it's getting hot out there

can't believe we were  butt-deep in snow last month, and it's 80 freaking degrees today.  not that im complaining, i love the heat, but jazmine prefers it to be freezing cold.  don't know what up with that, the heat makes me smell even better than when it's cold.  AND, i dont have to wear the SWEATER.

this morning though, we head out of the early walk, and i can feel the heat coming up from the ground, and yeah, you know we can't sweat right?  but, it's all good, we just pant along, knowing we will be home soon.  but jazmine stole the show with a flat out stop-sit-stay that kinda put my person over the top, congrats jgirl!

now there are definitely some things that i have perfected in my daily walks to make my person really irritated.  first there is the stopping at every corner to pee over another dog's pee.  that lasted for a while until , lets refer to it from now on as THE INCIDENT, and so she kinda tells me where to pee now... and i do it.  then, there came the "pulling" to see whatever it was i wanted to see.  pulling is fun but only for me.  you see, the first thing that every one sees is a 12 lb dog pulling a grown human in any direction on the sidewalk, funny for me, not so much fun for my person.  so that has also come to an end.

but nothing that i have done ever solicited the reaction from my person as today, when jazmine decided it was too damn HOT, and sat down in the middle of the sidewalk.  her paws trembling, tongue sticking out, she wasnt going anywhere.  my lovely person was trying to pull her, but jazmines butt was clamped on the ground.  cant even imagine what muscles worked to pull that off.

after immiting a backward scream, on the street, that sounded like literal pain, finally, my person had to pick that bitch up, and walk her ass home, in style.

im laughing, but on the inside.  im not the only crazy dog in town.

short on legs, long on charm

that's what that homeless guy said about me.  and i am both.  so, ive been thinking about where this blog about all things me is headed.  peeps want to know what's it all about.   i have a simple answer........ i dont know, im a dog!!  why cant i just write about my life, and things that happen to me, and what the hell i think about every day.... why does everything have to have MEANING?

i mean when ya think about it, arnt we all just here to figure it all out, whatever IT is?  do YOU have the answer to the meaning of life?  does anyone?  listen,   i shure dont.  all i know is i wake up in the morning, and my person is still sleeping, so i try wake her up...for about an hour.  then she finally gets up, gets dressed and takes jazmine and i for a walk.  i bark at every single freaking dog, squirrel, loud noise, and whatever else that disturbs the chip in my head.  we get back and i sleep......for a long time, then i beg for a treat, eat that treat, go back to sleep.  two more dog walks, and it's dark.  my person gets dressed up and goes out and we are alone.  person comes back much later and goes to bed.  we go to bed and so on and so forth and on an on.  that's my life.   that's IT!! 

so im just gonna walk everyday, go to the stupid dog park, eat puke when my person isnt looking,  make a number two so nasty that even i feel sick, and keep doing what im doing.  being me.. short on legs, long on charm.

and hey, if the big picture gets flushed out after all my musings,  i consider it a bonus.  and i know you do too.

dogs not allowed

i mean, what does that even mean?  i dont get it, why arnt we allowed EVERYWHERE?  its like that day that my person went to the highlands, and i didnt go, or i couldnt go, because dogs are not  allowed.... but baby persons are?  i mean whats going to disturb you more, me running around, coming up to you and charming the shirt off your back or some crying xsmall human giving you a headache. i rest my case, thank you.

so, it got me thinking about dogs not being allowed in certain places.  this is where we should be more like France.  come on, wouldn't you want to be eating a baguette, looking down and seeing me begging you for a stray piece?  you'd never have to worry about leaving a crumb behind, because id be there, making sure your chair, or floor or armrest was devoid of anything left.

i mean, we are the last ok discrimination left.  we are allowed in your beds, your sofas, your arms.  we are allowed to kiss you like desperate 15 year old boys, allowed to put our butts in faces, hump stray legs and yes, even allowed to fart and hear how cute it smells.  but we are not allowed to follow you into a food joint and sit on the floor while YOU do all these things?

yeah, you're hearing me now, and you're in the zone.  so, say it with me,   dogs should be allowed to go anywhere and everywhere, because if we are allowed to sleep with you, we should be able stay with you the rest of the day, eating, shopping , whatever else you have in mind.... without being shooed away...

.. what?  yes, that's right.  we are like desperate 15 year old boys.  and you still love us.

like a tourist in the city

It's another Saturday, but it's in NYC.  There is a gift out there in the streets, and it's around every corner.  That moment when you realize that you live in the greatest city in the world, and the only thing to do is to be with your friends.  That's how it was on Saturday.  The weather was on point, and in charge.  Sun shining, slight wind, warm and toasty, and everyone wearing pale colors of pink, yellow, beige and smiles.

The day began at the Standard Hotel in the meat-packing district.  Just a table of lovely ladies wishing one special one a happy birthday.  the brunch menu was slowly reviewed, items chosen lightly and the dishes disappeared quickly.  After what seemed like hours, the meal came to an end.  then it was up to the roof to be rendered speechless by the decadent bar and lounge, with endless views of the hudson river - note to self - must come back at night in a black dress.

then it was down to the outside, and up the stairs to the high line, NYC's newest park.  another aimless jaunt through deliberately-placed concrete blocks, careful to not get sandal heels caught in the spaces.
after talks and laughter, a float down the stairs and straight to 5th ave, for some window shopping, before heading to burlington coat factory for some real shopping.

At the end of the day, with the amber light fading behind the buildings, an early dinner, tibetan of course, spicy with just the right Sav Blanc to wash it down.

A final walk towards home, through the park and up the stairs,  finally opening the door to see where we are.... remember us?  your dogs...  the dogs who were left behind in the hot, stifling apartment for hours while you enjoyed the first real day of spring - without us.

  not cool, my person.  not cool at all.  i forgive you.

hanging with the ladies

sunday nite was wonderful.  my person's friends dropped by, and i was right in the middle of thangs.  never got my belly scratched by so many lovely fingers.. nice! of course they started talking about me, how great i was, how funny.. then they got on my person's case for not giving jazmine a voice.  they say this with me in the middle of them, and jazmine's sitting in the corner, ignoring all of us.  what they don't understand is that jamine thinks this is all menial, beneath her.

see, i know how to milk a scene, im the Al Pacino of getting attention, i am the Terminator, the Morgan Freeman of act 1.   i'm in the room, and you have to notice me, and i will do anything to make it happen.  jazmine would get this is she even cared about it, and she does not.

i think they should do this every Sunday.. come over, drink lots of bubbly and scratch me belly all nite long.

think they are up for it?  of course they are. could you say no to this belly?  didn't think so.

socialization

please, please don't bring me back to the dog park.  i beg thee, i beseech thee.  i hate the dog park.  nothing good comes out from there.  i am sorry i bit you, ok? but, please give me back my freedom.  i am not allowed to bark at other dogs anymore.  i have to sit in the prison yard (dog park) as bigger, meaner dogs come up to me (pouf poodle) and taunt and tease me.  one of them called me a mommy dog (irish terrier)  'cause i'm on the leash.  it would be like a child person showing up to school in a diaper.  i cant take it anymore.  i'm not allowed to bark at the squirrels, not even the one that was in the tree, showering dried leaves down at me.  and everyone knows that it's ok to bark at squirrels because (say it with me),  they are RATS WITH TAILS!!   i'm not even allowed to bark at the piece of plastic  being lifted by tiny gusts of wind, wielding it's way towards the chainlink fence.

my life has ended.  my love of the bark has been forced into silence.  my woe is plain and visible.  i cant see the light anywhere, because im now lying under the covers.  i mean, if i cant be me, what will i become? some old fart dog who sleeps all day?  will my vocal chords shrink until my glorious bark that i have spent years perfecting becomes like the sound of a duck or one of those squeaky toys?

most importantly, will she love me again? must i become a dog with no character, no personality?

come on now, you know that's not me.

spring time and dog parks

i'm sure i don't have to say this, but i am not a big fan of the dog park.  yeah, that's right.  the reason is simple.  there are dogs who go to there.  and they are big, and they like to run around, and it makes me very angry. 

ok, so the people who own these dogs sit around smiling while their dogs run around in circles, with other dogs chasing behind them.  these people think their dogs are having fun.  but the dumb dope who is in front, eyes bugged out, tongue slapping his face from left to right, well, he is not having fun.

he knows that the two bigger dogs behind him are chasing him, not playing with him.  he knows that if and when he stops running, they will jump on him, pin him to the ground, and bark 'i AM THE KING!' so he keeps running until he can't anymore,  and he collapses to the ground.  they jump on him,  and his person says"  oh, that's so cute!" , but what they are thinking is  "yes, he's going to be so tired when i get him home, he'll leave me alone'.  see, 'cause the dog park is not about dogs playing with each other, it's about domination.  it's not romping around, it's alpha dog sovereignty, and the biggest dog wins. 

Now, i am a big dog, in my head, so i want to play these games, but my person thinks i'll try to dominate and die.  so, we don't go.  until we do, today, and i know why - refer to the former post - bitting one's owner and such.

ANYWAY, she's determined to make me like other dogs, so here we are, beautiful day,  sun shining, dogs running in circles, being criminalized.   jazmine of course, gets taken off her leash and she immediately starts making friends, sniffing butts.  me, i'm still on the leash, and my person starts her speech, saying to the other people that i am "socially inept".  yes, she did.  and there is nothing i can do about it because of - yeah, former post - so, i have to suck it up, sit it down, and deal.

now , of course, the dogs can sense when their master-in-waiting is present, so all the wolves in command run over to me, their eyes glazed, wanting to get me into the game.  and i want to play, real bad.  but, not today.  i sit there, my eyes widened with a sincere fakeness that Marlon Brando would be proud of, and i let them sniff me,  i let them sniff my butt, lick my ears and walk behind me.

i do all this because my person will bring me back, and one day, she will take me off my leash.  and then i will be king.

twenty four hours below bed level

well, i did it.  i officially crossed the line from being cute and my usual KING sized self, and became the dog under the bed.  and i know exactly how it happened.  it was not a good day for me as brunello.

now, my person normally is bourne-stealth in watching out for other dogs, and ensuring that i dont go near them, and she may even have a faint smile on her face that tells me the barking and growling and jumping on my hind-legs with my tongue hanging out is kinda adorable. and yes i work that.

but this lovely morning, she was distracted by the phone or something, and we were close to home, and she didn't see the brownstone door open and her dog sense was a little off, so she didn't sixth-sense that there was a shaggy tail coming out of that door.  i did. and as usual, first i see tail, then i see red.  my brain grows with the rest of my body and suddenly i AM the creator, i AM the 150 pound German Shepard- Rottweiler and yes, i stood up and ATTACKED.  luckily for me, there was something in the way that prevented me from going after that large dog who would have probably eaten me up in one bite.  unluckily for me, the thing that was in the way? that little thing that blocked my possible death? yes, my person's calf.  yeah, her lower calf? and see, i was seeing red so it didn't register when i bit down on it? ok, let me explain, i was going after the dog, and i was in another dimension, and wasn't thinking rationally and i bit my person, but only a little. it does not sound good even now. and it wasn't.

now, i have never seen my person get angry at me, but this time she gave me a look. and i knew my free life was about to change. 'no'. she said.  'sit' i sat. 'stay' i couldn't move even if i wanted to.  i stayed for a lifetime.  then she said 'go to the room'.  and i ran right under the bed.

the day passed, and there was no, 'come here bru', no 'bru, bru, bru, bru, bru'.  silence.  oh, once in a while i'd hear a 'jazzie giiiirrlll', but that was it.

finally, it was time for the night-time stroll, and i felt like she had kinda forgiven me.  i belly-crawled out from under the bed, slow walked up to her, and  i gave her my best disney look.  she finally smiled.

we walked to the store, and i didnt bark at the pouf poodle, didn't even pull on my leash. she looked down and said 'good bru!'.  i was IN! then we opened the door to the store, and there was the cat.  staring at me.  and yes, i started shaking again and entered the crazy red zone, and i lunged at that cat, and there was something in front of me? and i looked up, and my person was looking at jazmine's leg. and yes, i had bitten her.  slightly.  a tiny scratch.  i couldn't believe it.  not again.  i side-glanced up again, disney eye is full widened stare, but nope, it was not going to work this time.  stiff walk home.  no give on the leash.  no sit, no stay, no treat (i can dream), and time alone under the bed.

i do have some brains though, i stayed there all nite. at least until she fell asleep.

she has to love me

so, i thought i'd talk about my girl jazmine.  i mean, hey i am the MAN, i'm the one who has the charm, i'm the one who makes you laugh, and cry, and scream..let's not get crazy now.  but, yes, she came before me, and she LOVES to remind me over and over ....and over again. so, i thought it was time to share her with you..my girl, jazmine.

now, she'll tell you that she is a classic yorkie, perfect in definition. yes, she came from a breeder, yes her mother and father were dogs of some wierd-ass names, pompous the pooch, and damsel-hurry-have-another-pup princess terrier..something like that.  and, no, im not jealous, cause she got the blue-blood, i got the personality.

my person was pretty happy with her, even though it took her three months to get her trained to NOT pee on the carpet and the sofa and the bathroom rug.  she learned slowly, those pure-bred in-bred crazies.  so it was going well, but then, she also had a cat, and that's when the problems began.  see, jazmine didn't know what a cat was, ya see?

so, she kinda thought the cat was a seriously interactive toy.  every moment of the day, she wanted to see what was inside that furry toy-thing. no worries though, pixie had these things called claws.  so every day, jazmine would run up to her and try to open her up, and every day, pixie would go 'ping!ping!stratch'.

my person couldn't take the battle anymore;  lock pixie in the room - pixie starts to meow - jazmine barks at the door - person opens the door - jazmine charges - ping!ping! stratch!

so that's when the idea was born to get another dog.. but this time, my person started looking at rescue dogs, and that's when she found me. i arrived and immediately, pixie was left alone.  jazmine had found something new.

she did NOT take to another dog being in her palace, at all. let me give you an idea, this is how jazmine looked before me:

 

see the bow, the calm eyes? yeah, she no look like that no more, check her out now:

she has been brunelloized!

oh come on, she loves me, she has to, what's there not to love? but we had some fights i tell you, epic battles of  teeth and feet and water being thrown on us and screams of 'she's going to kill him!', and yes she started it. with every ounce of washed and blown-dried hair on her body, she would come after me like a killer on the move, and i'd lay there, and take it.  just when i thought she'd never love me, one night  she just came up to me, sat down and started licking my ear, because of course she would love me eventually, that's what i do.

so now, after many years,we play, and we kiss and we don't fight anymore.  but you know i have to keep a dog-ear up, because just look into those eyes. 

i wouldn't trust her completely, i mean, would you?

northern bound

yes, im in New Hampshire, and it's totally worth it.  i mean, i love the city, but it's great to get out sometimes, see the trees and the mountains, and to be really outside.  of course, it's crazy weather, the rain hasn't stopped since yesterday, and its really painful to go outside to pee.  trust me, if i could go inside, i would, but i would seriously get in trouble.

so, the problem is that i dont know why im here. im trying to make my person laugh, but for some reason, she is down and out.  we've been standing outside for at least 5 mins, while she smokes a cigarrette and drinks another glass of wine.  im getting wet and im seriously cold, but im standing right beside her, cause that's what i do.  jazmine is sniffing at the ground, and we are both trying to figure out what's up.  but it doesnt matter why we are outside, as long as we are beside her, we are cool.

im trying to remember the conversations she had today, and it was really around her birthday... she's gonna be 41 tomorrow, and i'm thinking that maybe that has something to do with the down drive. so i'll just try something.  i'll sit where we are standing and stare up at her.  that seems to work for a mo, she looks down, and yes, i can feel the love.  she laughs and throws the cigarrette away, and we are back into the house.  the fireplace is going, it's warm and dry, and there is a whole room of carpet, waiting for me to rub myself upon.  i'm warm, and fuzzy and yes, my brunelloness is back on top.  gotta do my thing, cause making my person happy is my number one JOB!

so that's it for tonite, saying goodnite and happy birthday from lovely wet new hampshire.

children or dogs

i'm walking in the park today, doing the usual things, you know, barking fiercely at the birds, and the other dogs, and the strange sounds from the old man on the bench, just another morning of me saying, "yes, you see me!", when this little child person comes up to me, lifts her hand, and hits me on my head.  so i get it, little child person does not understand that her tiny hand can be heavy and can hurt other things, like dogs and such.  and her mother person behind her thought it was so cute, she ran up and said "sorry", while laughing.  this was not funny.  only to her.  so, i'm having a hurting pain on my head now, and i'm kinda wanting to bark, but i think she'll hit me again, so i sorta hide behind my person's boot, waiting for her to return the favor.

but, she didnt, ok? want to know why? we don't hit children... so that got me thinking... who's more important, me or some strange child who almost wounded me?  the answer can be a bit tricky.. you see, dogs are really amazing creatures, we are.  we love with every strand of hair on our bodies, but , most persons don't understand that we are animals.  see, if i feel pain, and i see where the pain is coming from, then i'm gonna wanna stop feeling pain, and give a little pain in return, yes indeed.

but if i were to say, growl, show my teeth, stand in attention, well, the mother woudn't be laughing, right?  oh no, she would be telling my person that i'm a danger to society.. well, she started it?

so, it got me thinking about children vs dogs.  of course, i'm on the side of the dog.  i mean, you can leave me at home without a babysitter, and i won't pee on the carpet..(i will pee in the corner behind the garbage can in the kitchen, but only if i'm alone for more than six hours, or if i wake up in the middle of the nite, and i HAVE to go..).  ANYWAY, you never have to think about sending me to college. i am already more intelligent than you think i am. no worries about girlfriends showing up saying "your dog got me pregnant".  i don't even know what that means, since my person made me have an operation when i was a pup. let's see , what else, oh i don't cry, i poop outside in the grass, i don't need to go to the best school, or compete for anything, i am ALWAYS happy to see you, and i have a cute smile.

so that's it, i win! it's my story, and i'll win when i want to.

clothes for dogs

so, yes..sometimes i have to wear a sweater, and i dont like it!! like i keep saying...i am a DOG!  now, i think my person does it for two main reasons, she likes to hear the 'oh, they are soooo cute', and jazmine gets to turn over on her back and get her tummy rubbed..  but, i think that clothes are for persons, not dogs! i mean, yes, it gets cold, but it feels GREAT!

i'm in this oven of an apartment most of the day, so the first chance i get to be outside, well that's always the most monumental time of my day.. no matter how much i'm sleeping, full 100% in dream drive, i hear the most amazing word ever uttered, "wannagoforawalk?" and it's like i've never SEEN the outside.  i'm up, and i don't care if my person puts me in a plastic bag of dog poo, or if i was just outside five seconds ago, i'm ready again!  so, it's into the sweater, down the stairs and out to the outside!

now, my person knows that we dogs have a higher temperature than persons, so she checks the weather before heading out, to decide if we get to wear those god-awful things or not, but it never fails to happen.  if i don't have my stupid sweater on, i'll get that look of pity from a passerby, like my person is so BAD!  i mean, i'm not COLD STUPID!! cant' you see my tail wagging, free from some perky fake burberry pink anything?

 i mean,  do you think i want to look like this?

do i look happy here? does jazmine look happy?  ok, she never looks happy, this is her look, what can i say, she's a miserable bitch, but still, she no happy, K?









 so, therefore, furthermore and in conclusion... dogs should not wear clothes, unless they have to, then they do,  but they don't need to smile about it.

and still they stand....

the tourists come from all around, heading to the big apple, New York City.. and they love my neighborhood, Greenwich Village. they come here with one purpose in mind, to block the sidewalks.. so, here is my ode to the tourists. it's called, 'and still they stand'.

 and still they stand

looking at the map

staring at that building

and taking a picture of that building

while they stand

there

in the middle of

the sidewalk

 again...

they don't seem to see the people walking around them

glaring back with laser eyes

they don't hear the truck as the driver blows the horn, and blows the horn, because he can't turn the corner because they are blocking him, and

still they stand

and i walk up to them and through their legs

and my leash wraps around a stray denim pant

and yes, they still stand

until one looks down and says "cute dog, can i take a picture?"

ahhh, no.

'

My name like no other

I love my name, it's so beautiful.. Brunello, just say it with the 'r' rolling on your tongue.. yes, it is. i love it when my person says it over and over again, like "brunello, stop!' or "no, brunello", and maybe a little "you're killing me brunello". like this morning, we're walking towards Washington Square Park, and i think she said my name like fourteen times in one block. you can't help but feel good about that!

now, how i got this name is another story. my person, Nikki, likes to say i was rescued, and i was! but the rescue was, a bit of a living experience, not filled with cages and breeders and such, but costa rican wood floors and an attempt to mend a broken marriage. you see, my previous owner lady person bought me to try to bring a spark back into her lovelife, and when she saw me, she knew i was the dog to do it! she named me brunello di montalcino after the famous italian wine, and brought me to her penthouse apartment in Miami, overlooking the ocean. it was fabulous, and so was i! unfortunately her stupid man person didnt think so, and off to the pantry i went, for fear of peeing and pooping and scratching up the hardwood floors. and there i stayed..for two months. that was not fun, the dark, the small space... i could hear them screaming at each other , and i'd hide under the cupboard, or i'd bark saying, "hey, look at me, i'm cute, i'll make you laugh!" but for some reason, they didn't speak 'me'.

then , one day, i heard the doorbell, and started jumping, jumping, then the pantry door opened and i sprang out , hurling across the floor, trying not to make scratches, right into the arms of the new person, who was standing there. she smelled so nice, like dog and me and bones and love! she looked down at me and said" wow, rasta puppy!"

i didn't realize i was all matted and my hair was sticking on end. i was soo happy, i peed, then sat down terrified!! my person was there immediately , lifting me up and putting me in the arms of the guest, and she looked into my eyes, and it was love, love, love. i knew she could hear me, and she said exactly what i told her to say.." yes, this is the one, i'm taking him'. and i couldn't hear anything else, because i just knew that i was out of the closet, and unto a new adventure.. and that's how me, Brunello di Montalcino, went home with my new person Nikki.. and got a family with a new sister, Jazmine, Pixie the cat, (what's a cat?) and Carlos.

So, that's my story, how i came to be called.....Brrrrrrunello!

Getting groomed after the storm

Nope, i don't understand it, try as I might. Why do i have to get groomed today? I mean, i smell great, my hair is closely stuck to my skin, which helps me stay warm. My paws are covered in crusty dirt so it doesn't hurt when i walk through the damn ice and salt. i smell like i love, and i love how i smell. So, what gives? And to make it worst, im going to Happy Paws, to get cleaned up. Really? Happy Paws? i've never seen a happy paw there, just yappy miserable dogs staring out the window, waiting for their people to come back and get them.

Nope, i don't get it. How did i get here?

so last night, i jumped on the bed, pounced over to my person, dug my nose until i was completely covered under the down comforter, making small circles until i was comfy cosy beside her warm body. ok, i didn't realize it was her neck and shoulder, but how should i know that..i am a DOG! so, there i am, getting ready to go into dream drive , when i hear a."oh god" and a "you stink!' followed by a "get up, get up" her hands lifting me up, and yes, i did the dead-weight-you-can't-possibly-lift-me move, nose and paws pointed down, eyes rolled shut. but, didn't matter, how can she lift me when i'm like this?? and i'm off the bed, on the cold floor.

i circle the bed a couple times, i know my nails on the hardwood floor drives her crazy..clip, clip, clip! "Brunello, stop it!" ok, i lay in my little insignificant bed one more time, looking up at the bedpost, and there's Jazmine, staring down at me, her suffering eyes narrowing into her look of how much she hates me..ok, maybe not hate, but tolerates me. Jazmine has never forgiven me for taking the lovelight away from her, even though it's been six years that my person got me.
So, i turn away, and think.. greenies.. wait, that wasn't it.

The radiator starts up again, and i'm up, on the trunk , over the bedpost, on the comforter again, i dig my nose under the sheets, start spinning around, and settle beside the warm body of my person. Did she notice this time? i try not to breathe, waiting , waiting, but nothing, she is still, so i move up slowly, slowly, as i love to sleep under the sheets, but with my nose peaking out at the top. i keep moving, until i can smell the air. ok, i'm there, ready for dream drive.. and "damn, bru..you need a bath, that's it". she doesn't move me though, and i cuddle back into her, and 321...dream drive...

So, i think she's going to forget, but for some reason my person is really serious. we get dressed, go outdoors, and it's ice and snow, and that bitch poodle walking in front of us. now, that is one dog i despise, ok, i hate all dogs in general, Jazmines' the only dog i LOVE, but i think it's because she doesn't love me, so it's that love-hate withholding thing, but every other dog, i HATE. and poodles are the worst. i mean really, should you have poufy hairballs on your feet? and there she is, in front of me, her quivering nose flayed already as if she can sense i'm behind her.

My person is walking slowly because she knows me. i'm already shaking, and people think it's fear that makes me shake, but it's not fear.. it's HATE. I can't wait to jump on her, bite those poufy hairballs off her legs and neck and chomp down....hard. the poodle's not looking back so, i do my best growl ever, i've perfected it so people turn around in fear, thinking they will see Hannibal the butcher dog, at eye-level, until they look down and see..me, my teeth bared, my fierce growl growling, and, well, they generally laugh, or shake their heads, or stare at my person with pity. but my person knows what i can do, and she holds on tight. she's experienced me getting free, running top speed toward a dog, jumping high and chomping down, oh yes she has. so, the poodle looks back, and there i am, face lowered, growling as hard as i can, and she puts her nose in the air and turns away. turns away! that's it, bark! bark! bark! bark! bark! bark!! and we turn left on Bleecker and the poodle turns right.

show over for now, but i know where you live, pouf poodle, i'll see you again.

I do my business on every corner, because it's important to mark you territory, even if i don't have anything left to mark, i believe by just lifting my leg, i'm claiming Mercer corner. Then we turn right, and i can smell the place. my paws stretch out to a full stop, and Jazmine runs into me. oh no, you're not taking me there, i smell great! i look great! i don't need to go to Happy Paws, it's not happy, it's going to make ME unhappy! Now she's pulling both of us, and my butt is getting wet from the snow , and people are walking by laughing, but she keeps pulling, and my 12 lbs won't stop her. we are inside.. and that's it, i'm getting cleaned today.