Princess here, good news to report, mom gave up drugging me at night to make me sleep. I don’t know what she was shoving down my throat, but it was nowhere near strong enough to keep this old party girl down. I remember one time back in the day this Rottweiler slipped me a mickey, it didn’t work either. Sleep wasn’t the only thing I faked that night. Furball was taken to get a haircut last week. Let’s see, how to best describe his appearance, a black pipe cleaner with legs, yes, I think that’s a fair description. Of course I don’t have much room to talk, I look like a gremlin post water since my last cut. I think mom may have slipped the groomer something before she unleashed the clippers from hell on me. Since mom and dad decided I can no longer sleep in the basement, I’ve been sharing a bed with the Menace in the kitchen. It started out as a pretty comfortable bed, however, the Menace has been slowly eating the bed in her sleep. Do you have any idea how nerve racking it is sleeping next to a goat on steroids. Truth be told, this last year has not been my best. I’ve got a case of the dry eye and I just don’t think I’ve maintained my girlish good looks. It’s kind of hard to rock the leash and collar look with an eye that looks like and feels like cotton candy. I think dad wants me to take up sewing because he’s always telling mom “we should just give her the needle.” I’ve got better things to do than take up sewing, however, if the Menace keeps it up, I may have to sew myself another bed. Chow baby, until next time.

One pill makes you larger, and one pill makes you small, and the ones that mother gives you don't do anything at all, go ask Alice, when she’s ten feet tall! Princess here, just chilling out after mommy dearest gave me something to (big air paw quotes) help me sleep. Apparently, someone gets a bit testy when you pee on their carpet, who knew they were such clean freaks! I’ve been banished to the kitchen and dining room. Mom and dad have put more gates up in here than in Alcatraz! I totally expect an episode of Lock Up to be filmed any day. Just in case, I’ve made a shiv with Fur Balls name written all over it! I know he was the one snitching to mom and dad and cost me my conjugal visit with the Dachshund down the street, dad calls him a wiener dog and I’ve been dying to find out why. I digress, to make matters worse, the Fur Ball and the menace have been banished right alongside me as well. It would be one thing if I had some intellects to pass the time with but these two wastes of fur and teeth are awful! Now I know what Martha Stewart’s cell mate must have felt like. On the brighter side I am getting more yard time. The yard time is supervised, mom and dad figured out if you put a leash on me I turn into some kind of four legged Betsy Wetsy. I can’t help myself, there’s just something about the feel of a leash around my neck which makes me feel as if I just ate a prune salad and washed it down with five gallons of water. Things continue to get weird around here, in the past year dad has left the house for extended trips, once with mom and the other with the hippie, only to return with a little human! The last trip, when the little hippie they call Summer went with him, they returned with a baby boy I don’t know what they did to the kid, but he looks like he saw a ghost! White hair, pale skin, it looks as if the color was scared right out of him! Now that I have more time, I promise I will write more, until next time, keep those care packages coming.

Its been a while since last I blogged, however, there has been so much going on in my life, I just can’t find the time! One of the most exciting events occurred a month or so ago. Dad and I were home alone, yeah yeah, the menace and the Furball were home, but they really don’t count. So dad is upstairs and I was stuck downstairs with the two creatures who are the bane of my existence! Anyway, I digress, dad’s upstairs asleep, when all of a sudden, there was a noise in the garage! Mom and the little hippie freak weren’t due home for at least another hour. The boy they call Wyatt, was hanging out with some people, who, recently had raised some red flags! A little thing, like having lived a communist country. However, there’s more, these people don’t have cable or satellite TV! Now here’s the kicker, before meeting this family, their entire house was destroyed by a (big paw air quotes) “tornado!” Out of the entire community, their home was the only one destroyed by a “tornado?”
So, back to the garage! There we were, all asleep, when the suspicious noise emitted from the garage. The next thing I knew, here came dad, running down the stairs, wearing nothing but his tighty whities! Great, I thought, here we are being burglarized, and dad’s ready to star in a Fruit of the Loom commercial! So dad gets to the garage door, opens it slightly and yells out “who’s there!” I was half expecting to here Bad Grams respond “it’s me, I came back to my Meth Lab to get a fix!” But no, I heard a response which sent chills up and down my spine, “we have your son!” I recognized the voice as being one of the members of the family who had Wyatt, my suspicions were proved to be correct! No satellite or Cable, can only mean one thing, TERRORISTS! Tornado my tail! More like an accident at the old bomb making factory! What should we do? They have the boy! I’ve watched enough Fox News to know what’s coming next, a ransom request! I also know dad has enough weaponry to blow the terrorists back to their non TV watching bomb factory, poor old Wyatt, oh well collateral damage is the price for freedom! I’m really not sure what happened next, but the boy walked through the door, without a shot being fired! I used to think dad was kind of a pushover, with letting Bad Grams run her criminal enterprise from the garage and all. But after watching him defeat the terrorists, wearing nothing but his skivvies, I have to admit, I’m seeing him in a all new light! USA! USA! USA!

I can’t believe what I’ve been reduced to! I know, I know, it’s been forever since I last blogged. To be truthful, I can’t believe I even mustered up enough fortitude to blog today, I guess it could be a little therapeutic. My life really took a turn for the worse when the little menace started getting bigger. She’s not Heavy Oprah big, kind of like skinny Oprah, you know, after her and Stedman would have a falling out! As the menace got bigger, she started to shed her hair faster than the Kardashians shed their clothes at a party with a hot tub full of NFL stars! I could tell this was really bothering dad, but I didn’t know he would take it to such an extreme! One day he comes home with a metal gate. I thought, finally you’re going to lock the Furball and the menace up like they belong. But no, he gates off the living room! Did I mention the living room just so happened to be where all of my couches and recliners are located? Did I mention the living room just so happened to be where my bed is located? Did I mention I’m now reduced to sleeping on the bathroom floor in a bed with the menace? Yeah, I’ve just thrown all of my dignity right out the door with the dirty diapers(another story for another blog) Just the other night, mom and dad had a birthday party for the little hippie girl. No biggie, right? No biggie until some of the guests started coming into my (big paw air quotes) “bedroom” and evacuating their bowels! The only thing which could have made it worse is if mom and dad gave me a few bottles of cologne / perfume to sell! Mom says it looks like I’ve lost the will to live. Will to live? Oh no, I’m in paradise! I mean, take a look around, there’s more gates here than at a Microsoft convention, every time I try to relieve myself, I have a stub nosed menace putting her nose up my money maker, and to top all of that, did I mention, I’m sleeping on a bathroom floor? Now I know how David Haselhoff must have felt! If things don’t start to turn around fast, I may have to take hostages! Anyway, how was your summer?

Needless to say, it’s been a minute since last I blogged! I guess I’ve just been overwhelmed here at the old homestead! Where should I start? Oh, how about when the little menace was scared stupid by Bad Grams! It seems the menace went into her kennel, which is kept in a room where the humans like to do their (big paw air quotes) “business.” Yeah that’s fair, I have to go outside during snow and ice storms, and the humans just step into a nice cozy room and take care of their “business.” I’d like to see dad go outside and do his big business in front of everyone in the neighborhood! Wait, on second thought… Anyway, I digress, the menace was in her kennel, when out of nowhere, Bad Grams stepped into the room and dropped her pants faster than Congressman Wiener standing in front of a mirror! I can’t even imagine what the poor thing must have gone through, I mean, her wrinkles must have been scared straight! The menace was pretty shook up as well!
When I said I was overwhelmed earlier, it was an understatement! We went from the little hippie girl they call Summer and the boy they call Wyatt, to two babies and another teenager, who I think is from Great Britain! Everyone is being really rude to her! They keep calling her Brittany. Talk about not being politically correct! Anyway, the house is busier than Charlie Sheen at a porno convention!
This gets us pretty much caught up to date, where I discovered mom is having another “yard sale!” The criminal mastermind, Bad Grams, is running the show! Mom is just running back and forth, getting whatever Bad grams asks for! You would have thought they would have learned their lesson, but no, they just continue to attempt to peddle their wares to unsuspecting humans! I know I’m just a dog, but riddle me this. They have a “yard sale” to make room in the house. However, when the next "yard sale" comes around, they have more stuff than they had the previous "yard sale!" Where does it all come from? Do they really expect me to believe they would buy something for $50.00, later in the year sell it for a quarter, and feel good about themselves? I don’t think so! They see this as a gain of twenty- five cents, I see it as a loss of almost half a hundred! I’m not buying this story, not for a second, I’ve got my eye on you Bad Grams!

I can’t believe how long it’s been since last I posted! With the little bag of wrinkles on my tail at all hours and storms continuously rolling through, my nerves are just shot! It seems everyone here in the house has been on edge. Just the other day, I left mom a little surprise on the dining room floor, nothing new, right? Oh no, you would have thought I left the surprise in her corn flakes! She started with kicking at my bed, telling me I’m a bad girl! I was thinking; yeah, yeah, I’m bad, now get over it, and get to cleaning up the dining room! Well, she didn’t stop with the kicking, she picked me up, took me to the dining room, put my nose close enough to my dirty business to really make me worry! For a second, I thought I was going to have to hold my breath, or else I would have been sucking pee off the floor! She regained her senses and stopped just before my nose made splashdown! She knew better to show me the poop, being a poop eater does have it’s advantages! Like I said, we’re all a little on edge! What little respect I had for the little hippie girl has been completely wiped out! This past weekend, one of her principals from school showed up at the house, not only did he stop by, but he brought his whole family! What kind of trouble did the hippie get herself into to have the principal come to the house and bring his family with him? Found stash? Tied herself to a flagpole? Put daisies in a soldiers rifle? It must have been big! Part of the punishment included the principal’s four boys treating me and the bag of wrinkles like Gumby dolls! Of course, some good old fashioned eye poking was included with the limb pulling. Mom calls me a bad girl? Not only did the wrinkle freak and I get worked over, mom and dad had to make dinner for the whole bunch! You should have seen the hippie, asking people if they were done eating, collecting plates, acting like she had manners! My first thought, when she was asking people if they were done eating? She has the munchies! She’s going to lick the plates clean! But no, she took them right to the dishwasher. So, as you can see, I’m just a nervous wreck! I will try to write more often, gotta go, my tail has either developed it’s own personality, or, a certain pest is pulling it across the floor!

I sure wish dad would make up his mind! Friday, during the day, he couldn’t sing my praises enough, making such statements to mom as; Princess sure appears motherly with Mimseigh, Princess has really turned the corner on her behavior, I can’t remember the last time Princess pooped on my dining room floor! Well, after praises like this, you would think I would get some upstairs cred! The Furball, who’s barely able to remember to breathe and walk at the same time, he gets to sleep upstairs! The little hippie girl they call Summer, eats like every meal might be her last, she sleeps upstairs! Me? I’m motherly to the wrinkle bag they call Mimseigh, plus, I gave up pooping on the dining room floor! Where do I sleep? Downstairs, like a common half breed. Well this just frosted my kibble, I would have nothing more of it! Friday night, I decided to take a stand! After mom and dad (big paw air quotes) "snuck" Furball upstairs, and went to bed, I started voicing my injustices! Woof, (translation: come get me, I know Furball is up there,") three minutes later, woof, (translation: "I’m not going to stop, until I get to come upstairs.") I continued this until, you guessed it, dad came rumbling down the stairs in his underwear, snatched me up faster than Monique grabbing the last chicken leg at dinner, and carried me upstairs! Excellent, victory at last, at least it appeared as such! Once I was upstairs, there it was! The biggest bed I have ever seen! Dad sat me on the carpet and jumped back into his bed. Not much of a victory, there was mom and dad lying in this huge bed, with that no good sack of fur, Furball, hanging his head over one end. To make matters worse, Furball was all smug, sticking his tongue out at me! I tried to jump into the bed with them, drats, how’s a petite girl such as myself expected to jump into such a tall bed? Oh well, I’ll just enjoy the carpeted floor by rolling around. To let dad know how much I appreciated being upstairs, I thought I would do some grunting and groaning as well. So much for showing your appreciation, dad grabbed me back up, took me down stairs, told me to go to bed, then went back upstairs! Well, I have never been so insulted, woof, (translation: "not this time daddy-o, I can do this all night,") With this crazed look in his eye, here came dad, running back down the stairs, for pity sakes, buy some pajamas! He grabbed me up again, I thought, finally, he’ll apologize, then carry me back upstairs. Oh no, all of a sudden I’m being spanked like one of those Kardashian girls after a cheap bottle of wine! Just as quick as he came down the stairs, back up he went! Woof, (translation: "was it something I said?") Saturday night, the little hippie girl had a couple of her girlfriends over for a sleep over. Dad asked Summer if I could sleep in the basement with them. Hang on dad, who knows what kind of hippie activity might go on in the basement? But guess what? there wasn’t any pot taking, or, anything at all you would expect out of a degenerate hippie, it was actually kind of nice. We just did some girl stuff, watched a movie, then went to bed. Sunday night, dad seemed all remorseful for giving me the business Friday night. We then went through the ritual of dad sneaking the Furball upstairs and him telling me to go to bed. After dad went to bed, I thought I would get a drink of water, what do you know, the water bowl’s empty, I’ll just let dad know. Woof, (translation: "hey, I’m out of water down here.") Here comes dad, running down the stairs, why do I even bother, with nothing but his underwear, to get me a fresh bowl of water, I thought! No, dad wasn’t coming for water, he grabbed me up again and began to pick up where he left off Friday night! He then puts me back down, tells me to be quiet, then goes back upstairs. Woof, (translation: "I guess a roast beef sandwich was out of the question!")