First Blog Ever! What Should I Write About... PUDDIN'!

     I'd like to tell you the tale of a little fella named Lennon McCartney. He's just a little guy, with little problems. You see, Lennon feels that he's held back by the fact that he's a dog. If he could only talk he'd tell you himself, which by the way I'm sure he's working on doing just that. You see he's miniature schnauzer that considers himself a bit of a quick learner. Always planning the next new ways to show that he's not just a little pup but better yet a cross breed. Some where between a adolescent overly excitable teenager and the schnauzer body that he calls home.

     Have you ever seen a dog watch T.V.? Studies show that only 20% of dogs actually even notice the big box in the middle of the room that is streaming entertainment into our faces and then transporting those images into our cerebral cortex. The same study tells us that only about 2% have the ability to comprehend and pay attention to what is being shown. Lennon is part of this 2% but if you saw how devoted to watching it he was it would blow your mind.

     I know he understands and recognizes certain shows and commercials due to the fact that he doesn't even have to me in the room to know what's on. You know that commercial with the hamsters driving one of those stupid Scion mini vans that look like somebody decided to create a car that resembled a hot box of turds. You know the one where the little red Scion is driving down the street by a van full of hamsters that like to bump techno music. If he hears that commercial he comes sprinting from what ever part of the house he's in towards the living room. Once he arrives in this area he prepares himself for lift off. Lift off you say, what the hell do I mean by lift off. He runs towards my flat screen television which I have strategically placed on the wall for optimal viewing pleasure then jumps up to try to get those tasty hamsters. Once the wall knocks him down, he proceeds to continue to jump up and down on two feet like I child crying for his candy back from his mother. Truly an odd but most entertaining thing to watch.

     There was one afternoon that my wife and I were just driving around running small errands when we spotted a red box. $1.00 movie, not a bad deal really. The only problem is you never keep it one day. That one day turns into a week real quick and then you suddenly have a $35.00 charge on your bank statement. This is usually due to the fact that the stupid things fall down the side of your car's seat... KRISTIN! Anyway back to what I was saying, we decided to rent one of these fantastic dollar DVD's. Nothing strange about that right? Well what was different about this particular transaction was the fact that my wife and I scrolled through the touch screen library in search of renting the movie BOLT for Lennon. We hurried home, eager to have a lazy day lounging around hanging out around the house, plus we wanted to see how our little guy would react to this movie about a dog that plays a super hero on T.V. and actually believes that he's a super hero in real life. Needless to say he didn't disappoint. I had to literally hold his collar the entire movie just so he wouldn't go jumping from the bed into the television like a freaking lunatic! Once he calmed down a bit he just watched the movie, never taking his eyes off the T.V. until the credits rolled.

     Let me tell you about aliases that this dog has been given. I don't know why but he seems to get a new one every couple of weeks. His most common one is Puddin' or Puddin' Pop. I'm not entirely sure where exactly we got that but it seems to work. The name Puddin' was soon transformed into "THE PUD" or just "PUD". God, I must sound like a retard right now. I don't know why the hell I started saying this next one but one day I came home from work and just started calling him Silly Bill. I don't even know anyone named Bill, makes absolutely no sense but once again it just works. Pop Pop is the next one on the list; I can't remember when and where that came from. The list continues to grow and I'm sure that the names will continue to not make any sense. 

      The fact that my wife and I treat him like he's our freaking first born child doesn't help the poor little guy because he just keeps on trucking with his antics. He drinks beer, and water right out of my glass. The little bastard doesn't even ask. I'll get up to take a leak, hang towels, fold clothes, do the dishes or cook then come back to where I left my delicious beverage and who's sitting there drinking my shit? That's right, Puddin'. He just sits there with his legs crossed and my drink in hand smirking back at me as if to say, "You stupid human, who's got a beer now!" Well maybe he didn't have his legs crossed but none the less he's drinking my shit. Silly thing is, I don't do anything about it because it's so funny to me that he's got the balls to do it, especially since my wife had his balls removed. I wanted no part in that mess but that's a whole other story.

     For the time being Pud is still a dog but if he continues to train and perfect his many crafts then there is no reason he can't become a hybrid dog boy like he so passionately desires.  After all, who wants a dog that doesn’t want more for him or herself.  Reach for your destiny Pop Pop, reach!