Saturday, July 17, 2010

Living the good life with Granny and Pop

It’s me … Ella Rufus. You know, the really cute Westy-Shih Tzu mix. Hey, why hide it. I’m darn cute and I don’t mind yelping that out myself.

It’s a little difficult hitting these tiny keys with my paws, but I’ll try my best. My humans finally toddled off to bed – Granny Wendy snoring away and Pop Nor somewhere between here and there, listening to his iPod – old geezer probably tapping his tootsies to Elvis or, sheeesh, Frank gag-me-with-a-spoon Sinatra.

Anyway, this is the first chance I’ve had to power up Pop’s computer and vent.

First, thanks a whole barking lot Mom for dropping me off here today. So you get me use to playing with the big dogs at home – Joey and Maggie – and now whose butt do I have to sniff around? You ever spent time sniffing around the backside of your, ahhh, human grandparents? No, I didn’t think so.

Of course, unlike you and Dad, the grand folks do let me jump all over the furniture and sleep just about anywhere I wish – and I wish mostly to be right in the middle of their bed. In fact, the most comfortable position seems to be plopping on Pop’s chest, with my hairy tush in his face. It’s the most hair that’s been around that noggin in years.

Now let’s talk turkey. This kibble and bits crap has got to stop. You try eating little nuggets of cardboard for the rest of your barking life and see how you feel. And you wonder why I have to stop and sniff around every tree in the neighborhood. Two words – doggie gas!

Anyway, I pulled the old stare-at-Pop-and-look-really-pitiful-trick while he was chowing down on my favorite – a nicely marbled Porterhouse steak, cooked medium rare, pleasantly garnished with shitake mushrooms, a hint of garlic and a splash of Port. Before I got through begging, I’d managed to down half the beef before we began working on dessert – kibble-covered strawberries, lightly splashed with Kir and Cassis.

Now I guess it’s time to lick my butt and head off to bed. You know a dog needs her beauty sleep and if I can find that sweet spot right between Granny and Pop I should be able to get my usual 18 hours of rest.

Somebody wake me when the waffles are ready for breakfast. And Pop already promised me that we’ll be having parfaits for dessert because, well, everybody loves parfaits.

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