Maybe you did not know that I am your friend who is a whippet, but I promise that I am good at being both a friend and a whippet, so I should be yours!
But besides being good at those things and being skinny, I am also good, like Mr. Mordred is at having favorite things, too.
Some of things are also Daddy, Our Mommy Girl and Mr. Justin Timberlake like Mr. Mordred said, but there are other things, too, like cheese for being yummy, little coats for being pretty to wear, pooping for being fun to do, runningrunningrunning for being something I am veryveryvery fast at, Mr. Anderson Cooper for being so friendly and handsome and nice to dogs through the television machine, Mr. Mordred for being tall so I can stand under him when it rains and sometimes have rice and treats fall to me from his very manly face beard, other people who are dogs for having parts that they let me sniff, people who are people with hands for the petting of me, cake, and not being cold, which is my favorite thing of all.
In fact, I would even trade Mr. Anderson Cooper and cheese for not ever being cold, and that is saying a lot, because I want to marry both of them.
I have more favorite things, but I have to go be asleep now.
On this, the anniversary of my six and a half year tenure upon this earth, and in the face of this Rather Unfortunate Illness by which I am currently beset, I find it most inspiring to enumerate some of the things that make for the optimum happy-being.
- My Daddy, and his associated tallness, braveness, good-smelling-ness, and general awesomeness
- Miss Morgane, the constant amusement and companionship that she provides, as well as the delightful visual contrast that her most delicate and pointy smallness makes against my majestic bulk
- Peanut butter, for its deliciousness, but despite its roof-of-mouth stickery
- Grass, for the general rolling around upon-ery of it
- Squirrels. Every hero needs an evil nemesis to counterpoint his splendiferous goodness.
- My Daddy's Jeep. It is a magical machine with an enchanted back seat where if I rest my keen and soulful eyes for several moments, I will suddenly be transported to a land simply choc-a-block with the aforementioned grass and squirrels, as well as eminently chase-able deer, a glorious bounty of sniffable trees, bushes, rocks, etc., and myriad surfaces upon which I have not yet urinated.
- Chicken. Because yum.
- Our Mommy Girl. Because she brings me said chicken, has a delightfully liberal hand with the peanut butter and assorted munchable snack items, and maintains the most wonderfully pungent and lickable foot soles
- Mr. Justin Timberlake, for his fresh, funky, and extremely danceable-to beats
- Soft things, and their niceness upon which to lay my impressively large frame
- Toys that possess internal squeaking apparatuses - they amuse me so.
The nice thing about a bunch of dogs getting together to play on the interweb is that they and everyone else gets to see that it is wonderful to be a dog of any kind. No matter what kind of dog you are, that is the kind of dog you should be, and everyone around you will love you for being that dog.
It just makes me sad when I hear that some of the mommies and daddies of some of the dogs who have gotten together to play here together on the interweb dog show, maybe aren't just letting fun happen the way it should. Sometimes they are barking and biting, when instead we should all just be sniffing around to get to know and like as many dogs as we can. Growling makes it so no one wants to come and play, and that's no fun at all. It even made it so Ezzy, who was our very top most popular Pug friend in the Toy category had so many people barking and growling at her that her mommy took her home, and we miss her.
All of the dogs here are pretty and smell delicious, so why not get to know them? They might then be your friend and share toys and new places to sniff things.
It has become increasingly evident during my lifelong tenure as a New York City Dog that the denizens thereof are not especially frequently exposed to canines of my majestic and generous proportions. This has, on occasion, caused me sadness. Thus I offer the next installment in my Heaves of Grass series of poetical musings.
Rumination of an Uncommonly Large Hound in a City Not Entirely Used To Seeing the Likes of Him
When you are a very large hound
A very large hound like me
You'll find very quickly as you stroll around
That certain people are quite prone to flee
What they're fearing, I can scarcely guess
I do not mean to cause them any harm,
Or undue fright, or extreme duress
Or any level of excess alarm
Perhaps it is that they've mistaken moi
For a monster or a terrifying bear
To that sort of nonsense, I must say pshaw!
And feign as if I do not really care
But deep, deep down it truly troubles me to think
That I could possibly arouse such nasty fret
Because it’s not as if at will, I can suddenly shrink
Though I suppose I could consult my vet
I really would like for all and sundry to learn
That it is not about the size of beast
I hope and I yearn, that they’ll no longer spurn
As upon them I do not wish to feast
For I am a kindly dog, albeit rather sizeable
And I understand that’s not especially normal
So if you come upon me I’d say that it’s advisable
For us to have an introduction formal
Hihihihihi! I am your nice friend Morgane!
Gentle Readers,
