Dear Kid,

We learned all kinds of things on the drive from Orlando to Key Largo.

Burglar Notice—Just kidding. We’re home. With our Vicious Attack Dog.

We learned there are services that dog groomers offer that we’d rather not know about.

We learned that you should not cross your legs while riding a moped (and that a wreath on a moped looks ridiculous).

We learned you need to be wary of falling coconuts when you are near coconut palms (and we learned that coconuts come from coconut palms not Some Other Coconut Tree).

We learned that vans advertise butt lifts and breast augmentation and that such a van causes much discussion among people who live in Ohio.

We learned there are signs implying that people need to watch for falling bikes in Miami.

And we learned that driving to Key Largo is a Sisyphean task. Let me explain.

Once Upon a Time (not to worry, this is the short version), there was a King named Sisyphus. He was not a nice person (in Mythology, nice people are boring and don’t get stories written about them). Sisyphus had a bad habit of bragging about being more clever than the gods (which as we know is not smart) and of killing travelers and guests (which was not only not nice, it was a real affront to the gods).

Skipping over the middle of the story (you can read it on your own if you so desire), Sisyphus ended up in Hades (the land of the dead) pushing a huge boulder up a big hill. Not only does Sisyphus have to push the boulder to the top of the hill, the boulder never makes it. Each time Sisyphus gets close, the boulder rolls down to the bottom of the hill. So Sisyphus must spend eternity in useless effort and endless frustration.

Like driving to Key Largo through Miami.

Original estimated arrival time: 3:45pm. Around 5pm, there was an hour left to drive. At 5:30pm, there was an hour left to drive. At 6pm, there was an hour left to drive. It felt like we were on a car treadmill—with no potty breaks.

We learned that dinner at Mrs. Mac’s Kitchen is still delicious and that Key Lime Fudge is yummy-to-die-for.

Love, Mom

Dear Kid Who Smells Like Short Hair,

Things have gone crazy here.

First of all, Mom and the Kid Who Smells Like Long Hair went to the groomers this morning. I’m really glad I just get my fur brushed and don’t have to get it cut, because it took a loooong time.

When they got home, Mom first helped Daddy stuff and seal A Lot of envelopes (I counted) which he had to mail for Ohio River Foundation. (I like Ohio River Foundation stuff. It smells like River and Mud which is fabulous. The envelopes didn’t smell like River or Mud. When I asked Daddy why he said it’s because they are asking people for money envelopes. I think they would be better if they smelled like River.)

Once that was done, Mom decided it was time to Make Some Progress. Do you know what it means to Make Some Progress? I do. First it mean moving a lot of dust around which made me sneeze. Twice. Then everyone had to help pull things out of closets. Mom went through all the things, found one or two items about which she could pronounce “We Don’t Need That,” and then everything else went back in the closets. That’s what it means to Make Some Progress.

I don’t want to be put in the “We Don’t Need That” pile or be put in a closet, so I’m hiding under the couch with my new chipmunk toy.

Mom says once she finishes this, it will be On to the Next Project. I’m hoping she forgets and decides to snuggle with me instead.

It snowed yesterday. I tried very hard to catch some snowflakes but they all disappeared. I don’t know how they do that and then reappear on the ground. It’s very confusing.

We’re supposed to get ice and freezing rain tomorrow. I don’t like ice so I think I might stay under the couch where it’s cozy. I’m also going to practice my pathetic look so someone will feel sorry for me and feed me treats. I love treats.

Hope someone is feeding you treats.

Love, Booker

Dear Tall Boy Person,

Mom is upstairs but she left her computer down here so I thought I’d help out by writing to you.

I have so much to tell you. Woof!

I was sick, sick, sick for a few days and no one even offered me chicken soup. I had to go to the Stick You In the Paw people and they gave Daddy medicine for me. It tastes really bad, so yesterday I spit it out and no one noticed (hee hee hee). Then Mom and Dad decided they felt bad for making me take the icky stuff so now I get cheese before my meals!!! Isn’t that cool??? It’s a new kind of cheese that’s yellow-orange and has a crunchy part in the middle, but who cares because it’s CHEESE!!! I love cheese!!!! Even without the rest of the medicine I am Much Better and back to being me.

I’ve also been Very Busy taking stuffing out of my toys so that they fit in the toy bin better. Also because it’s fun to take the stuffing out. I practically turned the Blue Owl inside out. Have you ever seen an inside out owl? I’ll keep chewing it for you. Since I finished that, I’m now working on taking the stuffing out of the Squeaky Skunk’s head. In my considered opinion, he looks much better with a flat head in my opinion.

Mom had started collecting Dog Facts for today’s blog. Since I am much more of a dog expert than she is (what with being a dog and everything), I have included my comments so you will understand everything better. Aren’t I a helpful puppy?

The phrase “raining cats and dogs” originated in 17th century England. During heavy rainstorms, homeless animals would drown and float down the streets, giving the appearance that it had actually rained cats and dogs and proving that even before the internet people would believe almost anything.

When Lord Byron was informed that his dog was not allowed to come with him to Cambridge Trinity College, he retaliated by bringing a bear instead. My kind of dude. But not sure why you’d want to hang out with a bear…

Kubla Khan owned 5,000 mastiffs. I wasn’t there to count them so the count might be off one or two. I’m not sure if this makes him a great guy or a hoarder.

Scholars have argued over the proper interpretation of Dorothy’s dog, Toto, in the Wizard of Oz. One theory suggests that Toto represents Anubis (the dog-headed Egyptian god of death) because “Toto keeps Dorothy from safely returning home.” Way to ruin a good story guys. But kudos to the Egyptians for recognizing the Power of the Pooch.

In Palding, Ohio (at the corner of absolutely nowhere), it is legal for police officers to bite a dog to quiet it. One has to worry about the police force in Palding. In Ventura County, California, cats and dogs are not allowed to have sex without a permit. I cannot even bring myself to comment on this.

Dachshunds were bred to fight badgers in their dens. Bookers were born to fight Squeaky Skunk in the family room.

Dog nose prints are as unique as human finger prints and can be used to identify specific dogs. I’ve left plenty of mine on the car windows and the windows to the back porch in case you get confused about who I am. Also, since most of us have black noses, you can’t tell when we’ve been nose-printed by the fuzz.

A person standing still 300 yards away is almost invisible to a dog. But a dog can easily identify its owner standing a mile away if the owner is waving his arms. I can hear a banana being peeled and tell who’s doing the peeling from any point in the house (not much point in asking Dad to share because he never does, but Mom and Pi are very good sharers).

One female dog and her female children can produce 4,372 puppies in seven years. Be responsible with pet ownership.

“Greyhound” comes from a mistake in translating the early German name Greishund, which means “old (or ancient) dog,” not from their gray color, which is dumb because why would you call a puppy old? The average dog can run about 19 mph. Greyhounds can run at speeds of 45 mph mostly because they are trying to prove they aren’t old.

A beagle has now been trained to sniff Polar Bear poop to tell if the animal is pregnant. That sounds like an awesome job! I love the smell of poop.

I’ve included some random pictures of random dogs randomly taken. I hope you enjoy them.

Booker, I said Take Your Nose Off My Computer!

Gotta go nap!

Love, Booker

 P. S.

I got great new treats that I will share with you (if mom lets me) when you get home.

B

Dear Boy That I Haven’t Sniffed In A Long Time,

I must tell you about the goings on here. Things have Gotten Out of Hand.

It all started out innocently enough. Mom and I had a lovely conversation. She’s learning a lot—I keep trying to teach her real words but it’s slow going. At the end of the conversation she got up and I followed her into to the kitchen because that’s where Food is and that is always Happy Time for me and my tummy.

Imagine the horror when she took out the bottle that says “Puppy Shampoo” because that’s where baths happen and that is not Happy Time. It is Wet Time. And I am not a silly lab who likes to waste time playing in water.

So while she Organized, I cleverly trotted out to the porch and camouflaged myself next to the window. I know that I see right through that thing, so I figured she’d never spot me. What? No dirty puppies here. I sat very, very still.

She found me (for someone with a nose that doesn’t work very well, she can be darn clever) and into the sink I went. I was very cooperative, because I am That Kind of Canine and if you’re going to get clean you might as well do it right. I let her wash every last part of me. As you know, I hate severely dislike baths but I love the square orange cheese I get afterward (still trying to figure out how to train mom to give me some without a bath).

I got dried off, ate my cheese, and then I had to fix everything. No one puts my fur back where it belongs so I have to roll around on the carpet (I so wish I could lick my back) and then I licked all the fur I could reach (I don’t know why I can’t just give myself a bath without all this sink business).

A little later, Daddy brought home the big motor thing. We all had to help unload because Daddy was In A Hurry. I was busy helping, but Mom kept forgetting to give me treats. So I thought “what can I do to really be helpful?” and poof! Woof! came the answer: I could roll around in something to get a good smell back on me.

Nonchalantly I moseyed behind the burning bush to the side of the house. Mom said, “Booker” in a Don’t-Move-Another-Muscle-Mister voice, but what could I do? Everyone else was working so hard. I had to do my part, didn’t I? So I zipped off on little doggie feet. Mom yelled, “Booker, Come!” which I  know means “when you get over here you get a treat. Probably.” It was hard (I LOVE treats), but I had a job to do and so I kept going.

I found some really cool stuff to roll in (I won’t tell you because I don’t want you to get jealous) and after I’d had a good perfume, I went back to the Pack.

Mom’s eyes opened extra wide when she got a whiff of me. Pi said something about me (I know it was about me, but I’m not sure what she said because of the funny look on her face and the way her nose was scrunched up—too much of a good thing, maybe?)

You will NEVER guess what happened next. Into the sink I went. I have never even heard of having two baths in one day. I wasn’t even dry from the first bath. Can you believe this?

Nobody appreciates help.

I’m exhausted. Must go take a nap.

Love, Booker

Dear Tall Kid,

Mom and I went for a lovely walk sniff this morning, and now she is racing around muttering something about not setting her alarm, so I decided to write to you today.

I’ve been meaning to ask you for some help for a while. I find Mom and Dad a little confusing. You’ve been here longer, so I figured maybe you get it.

I do my best to be a good part of the pack and do things to make Mom and Dad happy. You know, like rolling around on a dead bird so that I smell beee-u-ti-ful. (And I think we can all agree that I have the most advanced sniffer in the house–I know my smells.) Mom never appreciates this and into the sink I go for a bath. Why they think wet dog is a better smell than dry dog and dead bird, I have no idea. I keep hoping they’ll learn. Did they ever make you take a bath when you rolled in dead birds?

I try to help with the food budget by eating while I’m outside. Poop is delicious and nutritious! I notice Mom and Dad don’t yell at you when you get your own snacks.

Then there is the dinner thing. I hear Mom say it’s a family dinner and everyone should come sit down at the table. I sit very nicely, and does anyone feed me? Nope. I wait very patiently, but no. I try puppy eyes. Nothing. I sit up. No food for me at all. Any suggestions?

I think I should be in charge of security. It’s a really important job and I think I am very good at it. Daddy checks the locks at night, but that isn’t enough. You get it, right? You simply can’t let Intruders come Anywhere Near the house. How can I explain to them the Importance of Being Vigilant? I make sure to let dogs, cats, and people who don’t belong here know that I am Guarding the House. And everyone says “shhhh.” I don’t think “shhh” keeps Intruders away…

Mom and Dad are wonderful. There are things they understand really well. Like tummy rubs. And ear scratching. And snacks. I LOVE Treats! Just wish I could get them to understand a few things better.

Thanks for helping.

Love, Booker

thanks to Auntie Ro for sending the funny photo (it’s making the rounds on the internet, so no idea who to give credit to)