Well golly. Now that Mr. Mordred has gotten all brave about how much he loves butter and that nice Miss India Chihuahua-Husky (I've met her as well, and I agree that she smells almost as yummy as Daddy's hamper!), it just might be time for me to put on my brave-girl pants. No, silly – I'm not talking about not hiding under the dresser when Daddy runs the carpet steamer (though that does frighten the kibble right out of me), I'm talking about taking a big, scary chance on something I have wanted to do ever since I was just a tiny little whippet puppy: I want to be one of Mr. Santa's Christmastime reindeers.
Sometimes when Daddy goes away, he leaves the television machine on for Mr. Mordred and me, 'cause he knows that Al Roker makes us feel safe and warm, and all anyone seems to be talking about is Mr. Santa and his bag full of eggnog and video game machines. I could help him! I am skinny, and have spots like a pretty reindeer, and I can run really, really fast for a long time so everyone can get their Christmastime packages, and I can get petted by awake, new friends from all over the world! I even heard that sometimes there are cookies left out and I really like cookies, but I wouldn't be selfish – I would save a whole bunch of them for Mr. Mordred who is big and handsome but can't run quite as fast as I can, and doesn't look like a deer.
I know that it is cold at the North Pole, but our Mommy Girl just brought me a new, fuzzy leopard coat that matches hers, and I would do almost anything for lots and lots of pettings and shareable cookies.
If I fall asleep in Daddy's Jeep and wake up in the snowy place again, I will find a deer and ask her if she can help me apply for the job. In exchange, I will ask Mr. Mordred not to bark at any of her friends for several days. This will be very hard for Mr. Mordred, as it is one of his most favorite hobbies, but he will do it for the love of both me and cookies.
Cross your paws for me!
xoxoMorgane The Christmastime Whippet
p.s. Tell me what you want all your two-legged and four-friends to have for the holidays, and I will whisper it in Mr. Santa's ear.
When you are a dog who is mighty and tall like Mr. Mordred, it is possible and easy to find snacks in more places than when you are a dog who is lower down like I am. That is except when Daddy is nice enough to turn snack getting into a secret game between me and him, which must be what he wants to do when he puts things that I can sniff into places that I can get to if I jump from a thing onto another higher up thing and then open it using my nose and paws. He pretends that this is a thing he does not want me to do, but that is just to make the game more fun and exciting.
Mr. Mordred is also very fun about snack-sharing, because while he is enjoying something delicious, he will let parts of it fall me-ward off his face so that I can have deliciousness, too. This is a very nice thing of him, because not everyone thinks about the little dogs when they are snacking. But they sure would notice if all of a sudden we stopped helping and parts of snacks that fell on the floor stayed there! I would do that to show them, but I probably think that my love of the snacks would make me forget to.
A nice thing about being a dog who has a blog on the interweb machine is that sometimes other dogs write to us because they have things to say! This is a massage from our new friend Earl who is a Basset Hound!
My Appearance Belies My Rosy Attitude and Supreme Intelligence
I would first like to thank my good friend Morgane for giving me a platform to tell the world how wrong they’ve been about me. I realize my long face and sad eyes cry out to the world, “Get this hound some doggie Prozac!” However, I couldn’t need it less. I’m perhaps the happiest dog you’ll ever meet. People assume as well that I must be of lower sagacity, due to the fact that I often trip over my ears when I walk. Well I don’t know if you noticed but I just used the word sagacity-and I didn’t even have to consult a thesaurus (it means intelligence). I’m actually up this week for membership in Canis Mensa!
I just want to shout to the world how rosy my view on life truly is. I feel that the best way to do that, especially on this blog, is to submit to you a poem, entitled:
“Everybody’s Wrong”
I’m not sad nor am I depressed
Behind these jowls lay a smile suppressed
Although my voice is better suited for singing the blues
The rainbow of my soul can express all hues
I don’t jump for joy with vigor and vim
But that’s cause I only have five-inch limbs!
I can get sad and I CAN get hurt
When you smirk behind my back that I’m as dumb as dirt
Why oh why do people think I’m dumb?
I’d write a letter telling them otherwise, but I have no thumbs
I realize that historically hounds are hard to train
But that’s not the result of a diminutive brain
I have so many thoughts running through my head
Like what’s that smell? And is it time for bed?
And did you know that blue birds can’t see blue?
And that men get the hiccups more than women do?
I’ve a wealth of knowledge and am a great party guest
And my smile can fill your heart if it you put me to the test
Thanks for reading this everybody and next time you see me around town, know that I’m just like you - happy and filled with the knowledge that the world is a beautiful place. Until next time,
-Earl Droop
While I so very much enjoy being everyone's happy-time and nice party dog, sometimes I get tired and it is fun to let another dog be that dog. It makes me very happy to get the report from Daddy and our Mommy Girl that a Very Good Labrador colored black named Jarvin did a super fine and wonderful job at being a Party Dog last night where they were.
Some person or other dog had taught him the skills of laying in the middle of the everything so as to maximize petting for himself by people, and also that a dog who does not take things for himself from the snack table, but rather instead looks at it like he wants to ends up getting many nice treats delivered to him in hands which then pet his head. When a dog doesn't do that, then it makes it that the rest of us at our parties get put in other rooms or yards or not at home for the nights when our Daddies and Mommy Girls have parties, so we all thank you, Mr. Jarvin for being good at it!
Hi Nice Friends!
Gentle Readers,
I would first like to thank my good friend Morgane for giving me a platform to tell the world how wrong they’ve been about me. I realize my long face and sad eyes cry out to the world, “Get this hound some doggie Prozac!” However, I couldn’t need it less. I’m perhaps the happiest dog you’ll ever meet. People assume as well that I must be of lower sagacity, due to the fact that I often trip over my ears when I walk. Well I don’t know if you noticed but I just used the word sagacity-and I didn’t even have to consult a thesaurus (it means intelligence). I’m actually up this week for membership in Canis Mensa!
sometimes I get tired and it is fun to let another dog be that dog. It makes me very happy to get the report from Daddy and our Mommy Girl that a Very Good Labrador colored black named Jarvin did a super fine and wonderful job at being a Party Dog last night where they were. 
