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.