1 year later...

Ohhhh...it was a good day. Happy Re-Birth-Day. That was yesterday. The house is a little more empty, but it is certainly still chock-full-o-love!

Happy Anniversary To Me!!!

Yep - As of Saturday I will have been in this happy home for a year. I have come a long way too. I have come leaps and bounds in the whole "separation anxiety" department. I mean, I don't break out any windows or destroy the doors or tear up the carpets...so I guess that's a plus! I can get my leash when I'm ready to walk and get my clothes when I need to. I can heel, fetch the clicker, lay down, balance a treat on my nose, get the paper...I mean, I'm a BRILLIANT dog. Ok, I may have some "aggression issues" where other dogs are concerned...and I may not have "drop it" down pat, but I am a good doggie. Mom is one lucky owner! I have made her whole year, if I do say so myself!

I'm in demand...

It seems that the world can not get enough of me. My fans have demanded I post something on my blog since I haven't been writing in awhile...truth be told...my life is not as glamorous and exciting as one might think. I mean...I'm a dog...I don't have a lot of activity to write about.

I thought I'd talk about one of my arch-enemies, Pee. He's a dog that used to live with us...but I tried to eat him all the time. Mom and Dad really liked him - but you can see by his picture that he was PURE EVIL. I just tried to eat him a lot. Mom says I'm "dog aggressive." Dad says I'm a "poop stain." Whatever..I'm just protecting them...I mean, other dogs could do mean things...they could bite them in their sleep or something -- did you see the TEETH on that dog? He has the devil in his eye...you can see it.

Anyway, Pee is gone now...Mom and Dad had to take him to a nicer home. Now he lives in a big house by the beach with a nice couple who spoil him...in that froo-froo dress the dog in sweaters and make him wear silly collars kind of way...but I like it better here. I'll make sure no other dog gets too close to Mom and Dad and tries to kill them in their sleep..I'm a dog - that's my job.

Crabby Island

Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy, oh boy....I got to go to my favorite place the other day with my dad (you know, the guy formally known as dad...cuz he was away for a long time, but he says he was just on a business trip, but mom is not so convinced)....that place is Crabby Island....I'm not sure that is its real name, but that is what we all named it. There are a lot of crabs there. I mean...a LOT of crabs...some kind of musical crabs. There are also big snails there and lots of little snails...I like to fetch the big ones and eat the little ones...that is why mom says I'm part poodle...cuz I like escargots. I love to swim and to dig for things and to run off and discover stuff. It is my favorite place to go...Dad told Mom that I slept the whole way home and I was still not my normal rambunctious self when she got home from work. Sun, salt water and snail chasing can take a LOT out of a dog! Where do you think they get the phrase "works like a dog", folks...right here!!

Bragging

I'm sorry...they don't get any cuter than me. I don't mean to be cocky. I don't want to sound like the main character from Ovid's Metamorphoses ...but LOOK AT ME, PEOPLE...I am just a devilishly adorable four-legged creature. That's really all I have to say.

Spike!

This right here...well...right there to the left...is Spike's house. Spike is a gopher turtle. He lives in there...I want to be in there soooo bad. I want to eat Spike...well, I think that I do...until I see Spike...then I get a little nervous and I just kind of bark at him...but when I see his house...well, then I just want to get in there and hang out in it...I want to live in it just like him! I think I could be part turtle. Am I part turtle? Could I be? I bet I am.

The Name Game

SUPERDOG!!!!!!!!

People often wonder how I got my name. Mom knows a song - "Everywhere I go - Oh, People want to know -oh, who I am, so I tell them..." So...here is the story of my name. I mean, frankly, I wouldn't pick it...I think I should be a "Killer" or "Bandit" or "Rocky" or something...but then again...it could be worse...there is a German Shephard next door named "Cinnamon"...ha! I could kick that dogs rear end with one paw tie behind my back. Oh, and a mean little Jack Russel named "Spot"...who has...you know, spots...I mean, could they BE any more obvious?? The point is, my name is Supe. Not Soup, like as in what you eat on a cold day or instead of a salad, but Supe--short for Superdog. When my mom and the guy formally known as dad got me they weren't looking for a dog. I kind of just showed up and wandered in one night before they had to go on a trip and they got stuck with me for the weekend (my secret was to pick two softies...they couldn't dump me on the street and the stupid SPCA didn't open til after they had to leave for their trip--HA...and she thinks just cuz she can't teach me to stop eating out of the trash I'm a DUMB dog). So--ROAD TRIP...and the two of them had to figure out what to call me. They were determined to not keep me, so they wanted something they wouldn't get attached to. They were meeting all their friends at the mall for their trip and as they were getting ready to leave a small car pulled up near them. Guess who got out? No don't...we don't have that kind of time, people...this is a short blog and you'll never guess. It was Superman!! No kidding...the tights and the underware on the outside and everything. So they looked at me and said "Superdog. That is just stupid enough for us to not get attached." Of course, they shortened it to Supe, cuz let's face it -- that is cuter and so am I and here I am...cute name, certainly NOT at the SPCA-a great place to find dogs...just not the place for me...cuz, well, I belong here--even if I don't have a cool name like "Brutus."