Hello and welcome to an...who-what problem? There is no problem. Unless you count not getting a walk. Or that really embarrassing one where you eat all the stuffing out of your moose, or your turtle, and then the stuffing sorta stays with you, you know what I mean? That can be a big problem. Lots of scooting. Not outside, there's too much snow. Ouch. But back in the house. My she-human says that is the most disgusting thing she has ever seen. And she has seen me barf. This one day...

Oh, right. So, my humans are sick and busy right now. Being the good boy that I am, I really want to help out. At the end of my she-human's last post, she snapped closed the computer, looked at me, and asked me why she even bothered. No time or energy to recount anything interesting, just more whining. I don't think whining is a bad thing. It usually leads to really good things, like belly rubs and peeing. My she-human actually fell asleep on the couch after she closed the computer, and I slept too, until I heard a noise outside and let loose with what I can only describe as a ferocious barage of barkage. Humans tend to scuttle away when I do that. They don't get my degrees of bark. But if I don't warn my own humans of potential garbage men, neighbors, and UPS men, how will they know they need protecting?

This could take a while. Opposable thumbs. Don't got em. But I am a good boy. I will stick with this with the single-minded determination I use when finding sticks under the snow.

My she-human told me to get my stick yesterday when we were walking, well, I was walking, she had those wide, green, flat knife- things on her feet that make her feet really long. Skis. that's it. I try to keep my distance. Those things will lay a hind leg wide open, and then they squirt this gooey stuff on it, and wrap it up, and it itches like a million fleas, but they won't let you chew on it, even though the gooey stuff tastes so good. I once got a hold of a tube of it. Oh, boy! I chewed it up good! My she-human says she hopes my insides are all good and disinfected. Me, too. One word. Giardia. Bad news. That's all I've got to say about that.

I found a stick, a really big one, under the snow, and dug and pulled until it popped loose, and held it right in the middle, and took off down the trail with my tail high, showing off, I suppose. And then that stick stopped dead, and I'm pretty sure I got little bits of pine bark on my tonsils. I guess that stick was wider than the trees I was running between. My she-human snapped it in half for me then. Genius! I'm not sure I would have thought of that even if I did have thumbs. That was the walk yesterday, and boy, I had to toe the line! Every little bit again, it was "Andy, heel. Andy, back. Andy, easy. Andy, sit. Andy stay. Andy, come. Andy, look at me." And the worst, that really awful "ERRRRR " that makes my tail clamp down so fast I wonder what's happening back there. It means I am being bad. And when it wasn't that, it was "Andy, get the stick. Andy, bring it back. Andy, drop it."

This last week has been one adventure after the next. Have I mentioned the slippers? I got a package in the mail one day that smelled like feet and cats and farm and old meat and yappy little dog. I knew it was mine, because nothing that smelled that good could possibly be anything but mine! And then my he-human let me grab it out of his hand and tear it up! It was amazing! Shreds of paper and plastic flew! Slippers?! Slippers!! From the she-human's parent's! To me, the granddog! Happy! Ecstatic! My tail actually hit me on both sides! I ripped! I chewed! I left shreds of slipper all over the floor! I was exhausted.

Raisin came to my house. She saw the slippers. Slippers!! We tugged! We pulled! We tussled and growled! We ripped the slippers in two and played tug of war with the halves!

We went for a ride in the car- I love the car. I watch where we are going very closely. I stick my whiskers in the driver's ear, and let my tongue drip on her shoulder. That's how they know I am on watch. They won't let me in the front seat. If they did, my happiness would be complete. But when they get out and leave me there, I keep their seats warm. I am a good dog. They always come back just when I am having the best dreams. I have to squirm out from under the steering wheel and stumble into the back seat while I'm still half- asleep. When we got out of the car, we were at this house we sometimes go to, but it's always empty. I wait in the car while my mommy goes inside and does whatever it is she does. this time, I was invited inside and there were people there. Uncle Leroy and Aunt Mary and Cole and Glenda. You have never felt the quality of belly rubs I experienced. They told me not to dumpster dive, but their trash had pizza in it. I love pizza. Cold, hot, moldy, I don't care. If it's pizza, I'll eat it. They had slippers, too, but I couldn't have them. They kept prying my mouth open and taking them out. Their toilet water was cold and fresh, and much better than the bowl of water the she-human gave me. My humans won't let me drink out of the toilet. My she-human has a note under the toilet lid saying "Please help save me from myself. Close the lid." Everyone says I have exceptional handwriting for a dog. But my she-human says you can't expect boys to remember to close the toilet lid until they have had their laps soaked by my chin, which is very drippy after I drink. I put my head in their laps so I can gaze up at them and show them just how much I love them. Because I do. I love my humans almost more than pizza. I often have to choose between pizza and humans. i choose humans, because if I don't, they get really scary and I am pretty sure I might get a shakedown. But the I spit it out and it never happens. Unless it's steak. If I ever get steak, I'll take the shaking. I just gulp really fast so they can't take it back out of my mouth. You'd think my mouth was public property. Everyone's always digging in it, making me gag, pulling stuff out of it. Nothing is safe until it goes down the hatch.

Which is why I ate the stuffing I may have mentioned. It's cottoney and springy in my mouth. it gave me a really bad stomach ache, though. Not to mention that other problem. Now the moose is flat and hollow. The moose was my first toy. My humans say it causes deviant behavior, and it always has. I don't know what that means, but I do know that whenever I am playing with the moose, my people tell me I don't have the equipment for that particular activity anymore. Apparently it has something to do with the trip to the vet and the morphine and the stitches and my missing unmentionables.

When I came home from the house with Uncle Leroy and Aunt Mary and the rest, there was another surprise. I was actually at home alone when it showed up. The door unlocked, and I headed out to pee, brushing past my she-human...and WHA? It wasn't my she-human, it was Grandma Sandi. I whipped around so fast I about took her out at the knees. I jumped! I raced in circles! I was completely puzzled! And then I smelled the yappy dog, Princess! Oh, my. That was a fun, fun two days. Princess and I played and played, until I made her squeal by getting her head stuck in my mouth. It's not my fault it fit in there.

We had a whole bunch of strangers here the other afternoon. They sat in front of the TV and yelled at it. I made circles, laying my head on each of their laps, rolling over for belly rubs. It was amazing. I have never felt so adored. I guess it is kinda nice to just be loved sometimes, instead of doing all the loving. People seem to like it better when I am just there, instead of all over them. Why that is, I don't know.

Okay, enough for today. I just wanted to introduce myself, the assistant editor of my she-human's blog. She has decided to get up and go to work at an insanely early hour tomorrow, since she fell asleep on the couch and now seems to have taken the day off after all. Or maybe she will still go tonight. At any rate, we have both been pretty worthless today. Now it is getting dark. I am still holding onto hope that there will be a walk.

I may be a dog, dumb and loyal, but my life affords me the opportunity to learn many lessons. At the end of each post I create, I will share one of them. Here is the first.

If a squeak doesn't work, try a whine. If a whine doesn't work, try a yip. If a yip doesn't work, try a howl. Eventually, someone will open the door and you will get to pee. Persistence pays.