All this blogging has worn me out.  However, I do not want to let all of my fans down.  I know I promised to blog every night....but I think Friday is going to be tough. 

 

So, I have asked the family dog, Spike, to blog for me this time (please count this as Friday's entry).   I bought and installed a canine font from Petco so everyone could understand him.  He has been told that he can talk about anything he likes.  Take it away Spike......

 

Hello there everyone.  As WHW pointed out, my name is Spike.  I have been with the family for many years.  A little background on me....I'm a mutt.  I am approximately 2 feet tall, and a svelte 50 pounds.

 

As WHW heads to the living room to rest his little eyes, let me outline the theme for today...WHW is a jerk.  Hold on now.  Before you kick into the "...but Spike, don't you think you are being a little tough on him" routine, let me state my case. 

 

Point #1: He THINKS he is funny.  For example, as he walked away from the computer he joked about my lack of opposable thumbs.  Something about how slow I will type bacause of it.  Hey, hunt-n-peck boy.  I bet I can type faster than you with one paw tied behind my back.  Heck, you don't even use your precious thumbs when you type.  Dork.

 

Point #2: He THINKS he knows what is best for me.  Last year, at the vet, he was told I was getting a bit heavy.  My defense...muscle is heavier than fat.  Anyway, Nerd-boy goes out and buys a special dietary dog food.  Let me tell you, regular dog food is tolerable.  This stuff was just this side of foam, sticks, and pebbles.  Nice.  I started getting used to it, thanks to the kids.  WHW left the food bag on the floor.  Whenever the boys would walk by, they would give "Old Spike" another scope full.  Then, four-eyes comments that I look even heavier, and figures out how I'm getting my extra Carbs.  He then puts the bag high up on the shelf.  Nice way to treat man's best friend.

 

Point #3: His inane stories.  He walks me every night, which is good.  Unfortunately, he tells me these stupid stories as we walk.  Probably 75% of them are about some bizarre thing that happened to him in the bathroom.  I'm pretty sure the only reason he is telling me these stories is because Mrs. WHW finally got tired of them.  I got news for WHW, it ain't normal for one person to have so many bathroom stories.  Dude, keep your head down as you go in, do your business and get the heck out of there.  Enough about the poop balls.  If I hear that story one more time, I am going to gouge my eardrums out with a milkbone.

 

Point #4: He TRYS to be tough with me.  A couple nights ago, I was in a barking mood.  I am a dog.  That's what we do.  Also, I really wanted to spend the night outside.  Well, about 2:00 AM nerdlinger comes downstairs, wearing his Napoleon Dynamite T-shirt and his Spongebob shorts and tells me to cool it.  That night I wasn't buying it.  Heck, I know very few members of the animal kingdom that would be afraid of someone wearing that get-up....possibly a hampster...a little hampster.  Anyway, I wait for roughly 20 minutes, just long enough for Rip Van Winkle to get back to sleep, then I tear loose a series of barks that impressed even me.  You would have thought the house was being invaded.  Well, WHW comes downstairs again, pillow-head and all, and tells me I am outside for the night.  News flash geek, that's what I wanted.  Check and Mate to Spike.

 

Point #5: The cats.  A couple years ago we had a few mice in the garage.  No big deal....at least I didn't think it was.  Well, WHW decided we needed a couple cats.  What that means is, he watched a bunch of Tom and Jerry cartoons and decided cats would be cool.  He was wrong.  The first time one of them rubbed against me, I let them know in clear terms that they were not part of my family.  Oh, they are clever.  The other day one comes over to my water dish.  Poor pussycat was thirsty.  One backhand later, pussycat is not thirsty.  I didn't notice WHW standing near by.  The %^$# cat did.  WHW comes over and tells me to back off.  Whatever.  Dumb cats.

 

Now, I'm sure he has told everyone how he is a nerd, how he is a loose cannon, how funny he is.  I'm here to set the story straight.  WHW has his good moments...like when he is feeding me, brushing me, and walking me....and when he is sleeping.  But overall, he is enough to drive a dog to drink.

 

Well, I better sign off.  My paws are tired.  Besides, I think I see one of the cats nosing around my Snausages.

 

Later peeps.  Peace out.