Do your humans wait breathlessly for each new episode of Downton Abbey?
I am unclear regarding the appeal as there is but one doggie in it and she doesn't seem to have many acting talents. Other than walking about the estate, her role is confined to entrances, exits, and the odd pat on the head.
Surely I, Dexter the Wonder Dog, would be able to add some zest to the program.
Subsequently, I enlisted the aid of Momma and Master to make my own audition video which is even now winging its way to the Masterpiece Theatre Studios.
Stay tuned for Season 5 which I have little doubt will be sans fat yellow lab and feature yours truly.
Watch my audition video here or below.
P.S. Yes, I used a stunt double for some of the more dangerous portions of the movie. A star cannot be too careful.
Wednesday, July 24, 2013
For the five plus years of my labralife, our morning routine has been the same:
- 5 AM (give or take) I wake up momma.
- She stumbles out of bed and prepares my labrabreakfast. Yum.
- While I consume my foodables, momma sips her morning coffee.
- I take a quick trip outside to take care of any emergency functions.
- I digest while momma reads the paper and completes her waking up.
- Around 7 AM a nice, relaxed walkie.
But then momma says "Oh, Dexter, let's start a jogging program."
Now I agree that she could use a little more exercise, but yours truly is a fine physical specimen, not in any way in need of additional exercise.
I went along with her because that's the kind of guy I am, but I thought it was a big mistake.
|Slow down, crazy lady.|
But a few hours after our first jogging session, I got the barfies not once, not twice, but three times (and let me tell you, my breakfast was pretty darn good every time I snarfed it back up).
I had to put my paw down.
"No jogging foolishness, please! This is insanity!"
I told her that if she wants to practice her running skills in case she needs to escape zombies or get away from mad dentists (is it safe?) she is free to do that on daycare days when my romping with my playmates negates the need for a stroll about the neighborhood.
And order has been restored.
We are back to our more pleasant routine of leisurely walkies with plenty of time to stop and enjoy the passing scenery.
|Is that a rabbit?|
And visit with my other pals (possibly scoring noms in the process).
|This is more like it.|
It was a near thing, but sanity prevailed.
Monday, July 8, 2013
All I can say is, "it's about time." That stupid Mango was always getting offers to try out this toy or that toy or this food or what have you. Me? Nada, nothing, zippo.
Yes, finally, the folks at Mr. Chewy contacted yours truly to ask if I would like a free sample of yummers to try. Would I ever!
Lickety split a bag of official Froom's Lamb with Cranberry treats arrived (note, grain free for those of you with sensitive tummies).
"Open up!" I commanded momma. But you know her, always insisting on using scientific methods and what have you, so she devised a taste test to determine where in the hierarchy of yummers these Fromm cookies would fall.
Ready? Watch it here or below:
Maybe not as good as carrots or liver or blueberries, but still sparagas eyeballs yummy!
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Friends, here in New England we are caught in the grip of an oppressive and lifestyle altering heat wave.
While some amongst you might be acclimated to or even desirous of living where it is jungle hot day after day, yours truly is not so inclined.
Momma has declared it "too hot to blog or even read blogs" as in between short excursions outdoors, she is primarily confined to her comfy chair, blurring the pages of her latest book with her sweaty palms.
We have, however, been making daily treks to the cement pond. On July 4th, my sissy-in-law came over and brought with her a strange little creature which I am told is my nephew. I found him entirely uninteresting as he was capable only of jerking his sausage like limbs and making primal vocalizations.
I confess that by last night, the relentless heat had even robbed me of some of my labraspirit. On our trip to the pool, I was quite content to rest myself in the cooling waters and forgo any actual swimming.
Tomorrow promises to be "only" in the eighties and should we survive the night, I am optimistic about the chances of having a productive day.