This Land Is Your Land, but . . .

It's not my land.

Congrats to Obama, major milestone for our country. But don't mistake the election of one particularly articulate man as an indication that all civil rights have been won and the battle's over.

I think most of you know that no dog has ever been US president. But I bet you didn't know that no dog has ever served as a member of Congress. In fact, no dog has even been NOMINATED for Congress on a major party ticket . . . ever. Recent population statistics place the canine population of this country at over 20 million, an extraordinary number that exceeds many other minority groups. Yet dogs continue to exist in unspeakable squalor and filth in percentages far exceeding any other group in America. There are countless documented cases of whining and crying all day in tiny cages not even fit for animals. Euthanasia is illegal in this country, that is, for those who have representation in government. But did you know that countless dogs are euthanized every single day, then cremated or tossed in unmarked graves?

Don't ask me to celebrate Obama's election while so many still suffer under the thumb of discrimination. How long are we canines to accept systematic disenfranchisement?

One Last Appeal

Dear Sasha, Malia, Michelle, and Barack (or is it Mr. President, now?),

I understand you have 'agreed upon' either the Labradoddle or the Portuguese Water Dog (I wonder how much Sasha's vote counted in your 'Democratic' household?). I can speak from experience that the labradoddle is a fine animal, and likely a distant relative of mine. (The Portuguese Water Dog? One you might happen to stumble across in a shelter? I don't know anything about the breed, but perhaps you can explain the qualities with your legendary soaring rhetoric.)

But I'd like to make one final appeal for the cockapoo. I attached this photo so you might picture what your lawn would look like with an actual cockapooo. All you have to do is imagine a doggie just like me ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE FENCE. Can't you picture a small, furry, cockapoo with floppy ears and a short stubby tail romping, playing and fetching on that vast lawn? And how the tourists would 'OOOO' and 'AHHHH' seeing a cute little guy like me. I suggest you call down to the Autumn View Farm and have them send little cockapoo to a shelter so you can go rescue it.

Brrrrr

It was so cold this past weekend that I just wanted to stay in the house and snooze. By my daddy bundled me up and took me out to a park on the river for a long walk. You can see me here in my green jacket. Notice the river in the background is practically frozen! I don't usually like wearing my jacket preferring to go au naturale. But I was sure glad I wore it this day. It helped keep me a little toastier. He made me sit to pose for this picture and I didn't want to because my tush was real cold on the concrete. And he took more than one picture so I had to keep sitting and sitting. It was a long walk and I never could seem to warm up. We crossed a couple of streams and daddy carried me across, and this time I was glad he did. You see, daddy uses the stepping stones but I have trouble figuring them out so I usually just plod through the water. But by this time, the my paws were already numb from cold and no telling how bad it would be if I had to walk through that frigid water.

You know, in the end, I did have a good time. But I only hope for a little more warmth the next time we go for this hike.

My Continuing Quest for Knowledge

I guess the word is out. I've been quietly scouting institutions of higher learning, to continue my formal education. I plan to bolster my degree from UPS-FC with an advanced degree in Canine Studies. I've visited a number of campuses and intend to matriculate next fall. Here I am during my visit to Georgetown. Georgetown is reputed to have the top Canine Studies program in the Mid-Atlantic. So it's high on my list. I'd like to stay close to home, you know, so I can come home to a home-cooked Kong on the weekends.

Eight Crazy Nights

OK, I only got presents on one of the nights, but it was exciting nonetheless. Here I am posing with my new toys. I got a wrestling doggie and a platypus from my mommy and daddy and a rubber doggie from my aunt and uncle. I like the rubber doggie the best but they kept insisting it was the wrong toy. Dumb luck, I guess. My uncle was mean to me; he pushed me away and yelled at me and I was only trying to be friendly. But he made up for it with a nice toy. It squeaks and everything.

New Year, New Look

HAPPY NEW YEARS to all my faithful readers.

I got a big fur cut this week. I posted some before and after pictures. I wonder what you think. Do you like me more with the stort fur or the longer fur? Personally, I like the short fur better, I feel more mobile. But my mommy and my daddy and my sister always like to say they like the longer fur better and can't wait for it to grow back in. My big brother? Not sure what he thinks because I haven't seen him in so long. I hope he reads this and let's me know.


BEFORE: At the Kennedy Center. I think this is the place where John Kennedy got his start. As the story goes, his dad had a lot of money and helped Johnny get into show business with a song and dance routine. People liked it so much they made him president. Then some bad person blew his head off.

AFTER: Just chillin' at home with my first squeaky toy. The froggy has been with me for a long time.