No dalmatian left behind

I am sorry for the long silence.   It's been a busy time here in Los Angeles.   I'm in puppy kindergarten and learning a lot.   Today we worked on "come when called."   My valet doesn't understand why it's so easy when it's supper time and harder when I'm playing at the puppy play park.   My classmates are a chihuahua, a corgi, two rottweilers, a beagle, and a border collie.   We really like to play together.   I think that the chihuahua will have the best grades in the class.   (She's not a show-off, though, we all like her!)

I've also had kennel cough, which kept me from being able to play much for the last two weeks.   But now I can go to the park and to school and for long walks with my valet.

Next week there is a big dog show and I'm going to watch.   My sister, Gracie, will be in the show.   I'm not ready for my close-up, but I will be watching carefully to see if this looks like something I'd like to do.    Maybe I'd like to be a show dog.  Or maybe I'd rather have a daily talk show like Oprah.   I do like music.  I listen to the radio a lot -- BBC, Radio Swiss Jazz, Rado Khandahar, and KPCC.   I also like to listen to Earth, Wind, and Fire.  Maybe I could be a dj - a dog jockey?

That's all for the report on school.   Next week we do fingerpainting!

Personal freedom

So, today I have been pondering the point at which personal freedom meets actions that get you into trouble.   Here's an example.   There I was, playing at the edge of my throw rug, when Xerxes decided to go and sit on the middle.    That presented me with a dilemma.   Should I grab the rug and pull it as hard as I could and really put Xerxes in his place?  (Especially since he was giving me the fish eye at the time.)   Or, should I refrain and chew on my bone?    I know what the staff would say.   That my freedom to do as I please ceases when I cause pain to others.   But how about pursuing fun?   What do you think?   Maybe I should get a pink wig and really go for personal freedom like Britney Spears?

For those of you who want an update on my injured reserve status, I'm in the splint for another two weeks.   And, the vet is making me wear a terrible thing on my head.   He calls it a bite collar.    Heck, all I did was eat the foam out of my splint.   You'd think I had committed a crime.   (Of course, that foam did make me a little sick yesterday.)  So, I have to wear the dread contraption for the rest of the time.    I do get a reprieve when I go to puppy kindergarten, which starts on Saturday.   I think that will be fun.

Anyhow, the staff has been pretty tired from racing me to the vet to get a new boring splint (though it is a cheerful green), and making me wear the dread contraption.   I think the valet could use a nap.   I think it's about time for me to grab a pot holder and try to race around the kitchen against the vet's orders to see what she'll do!

Injured Reserve

Greetings!  This is my first day as a blogger.   My valet (Mom) started the blog for me because I'm temporarily on injured reserve with a broken toe.   It's so boring to have to be quiet when I want to run and jump.   But the doctor says I must have no bouncing until the splint comes off.

We decided to start a blog because my cousins, Maggie and Bandit, have a blog and they like it.   I guess I'll like it, too, if I get to dictate whatever I want to write.   I think I'll write a treatise on the rights of canines.   Or maybe I will after I take a nap.    And chew on my Kong.

I hope you will write me with ideas for things I can do that don't involve running and jumping while I'm recovering from my injury.   (Please no suggestions that involve eating the cat, since Mom says that's not good manners.