I am sorry I have not written very much on the interweb site very much for the past few days, but something very funny is going on. As a little whippet dog, there are some things I am very good at – like being skinny and running fast, and fitting between Daddy and the couch. But there are some things I am not always good at, and one of them is sometimes figuring out what is going on.
Daddy keeps putting Mr. Mordred and me in the back of the car and I go to sleep thinking that I will wake up and we will be in the grassy/sometimes snowy land, but instead he keeps taking us to a place that he calls our "new home." The Girl Who Sits Close To Daddy On The Couch is usually in the place, but there is no couch. There is really not anything, but Daddy and The Girl hug each other a lot and make the walls different colors, while I and Mr. Mordred sleep and sniff new things. Then Daddy and Mr. Mordred and me get back in the car and I wake up back at my house which is all full of boxes that sadly are not filled with either tasty chicken or soft things to lie down on.
I don't care very much where I am so long as there is Daddy and Mr. Mordred and food and my squeaky fish toy and a soft blanket and a television machine that has Mr. Maury Povich living inside it. His voice makes me feel like there are happy fireflies in my head. And if The Girl is also at the place where we are, I am glad because she smells often like bacon, and she has two hands, both of which she might at any time use for petting me.
Oh – and I hid under the dresser the night when the loud bangs and horns and kisses happened, but Mr. Mordred said that it all meant Happy New Year, and when things are loud and happy, many times there is cake, so I hope you all were happy. And maybe had cake.
Hello nice friends! 
