December 26, 2011

Dear Diary,

TREATS: LOADS!!! Well, by the usual paltry standards.
SNUGGLES: TONS!!! Again, the bar is low, but I'll take it.
INJUSTICES: 12, give or take

It's that time of year. The weighing of the "naughty" with the "nice." What does this mean anyway? Isn't one man's naughty another's nice? Isn't eating someones cake a nice thing to do? Says, "Gosh, you made a nice cake that's deserving of being eaten!" and "Let me eat this for you so your bum doesn't grow any larger."  Semantics. It's all I'm saying.

Look at me here on Christmas morn. Hardly eaten anything and trusted into the task of ripping through heavy stock paper. But look at what it says?? Does it say GOOD DOG! Or BELOVED PET? Sure doesn't.

Ugh. Injustice. But it was filled with treats! However, they were treats that insinuated that perhaps my breath doesn't smell like a dewey meadow filled with rosebushes and unicorns. (I hear unicorns smell divine!) Rude. I didn't give them presents that said, "You stink!! Fix it!" or "You call that a haircut?!" Where is the sensitivity?!

As promised, I found some holiday photos of me from the good years. You know, before mini-person (and the 2nd vacuum. Who needs 2 vacuums?!?!?! Pure evil.).

Have you ever seen anything cuter than this?!?! Look at my adorable ears!!! And my tiny little legs! Oh, how I love this photo. I don't really like that coat so much, but I look so good in it, it's hard to poo-poo it. 

Here's where I really shine through....

See what I did there? Shine? Lights?? Oh forget it. Puns never pay off. Or is that a metaphor? WHATEVER. I look amazing and that's the point. Look at that face! I really am a treasure. And how dare they put all those lights around me! I could have been electrocuted! I guess it was worth it for the sake of the art.

Here I am now....

... resting with my latest friend. Pink Dog, I named her. She doesn't say much. Just a few crinkles and squeaks. It's best that way. These people need a bigger couch. Criminal how I have to curl up like this. And no blanket!!!! No hamburgers! Misery.

Naughty or nice... I'm still gorgeous.

Yours,
Beans A. Wienerdog

December 21st, 2011

Dear Diary,

Injustices since last entry: 89
Evil Hallway monsters: 32
Treats: 7

I am offended. And appalled. Aghast even. Apparently, people are upset that a dog is on the White House Christmas card. Why do you people think one has a dog??? It's to put a cute photo of them on your holiday card!!!! Oh and the snuggles, and cleaning up food that's dropped on the floor.

Look at that poor mutt!!!! (Wait, he's a pure breed??? From where? Portugal?? The heck you say... Well, ok.) Look at that poor odd breed European raised dog who apparently can swim well!! MISERABLE!!! And do you know why??? It lives in a house with 2 mini-people who suck up ALL the air in the place. ALL the attention. And a staff of 3080 who probably hoover the floors before Portugese Mutt can sniff out the treasures. I can think of nothing worse. Well, ok... There is a fireplace. That's pretty nice. It's like constant sunshine that doesn't move, which is quite handy. I wonder if those gift boxes are full of socks and peanuts and porterhouse steaks and fluffy blankets. The dog should be on that table investigating!!! Not lolly gagging around the fire. Lock it up, pooch!!! 

I, of course, am prominent on this year's card for the family... I SHARE the limelight of course. OF COURSE. Share. What does that even mean. Just say it, it's a holiday card hijack. This mini-person can't rock a santa suit like I can. If I can figure out that foul-filthing photo scanner, I will prove this point. Stay tuned, Diary. Stay tuned. 

Merf, 

Beans A. Wienerdog

December 15, 2011

Dear Diary,

DO YOU SEE THIS?!?!? Yes, I look adorable. I know. That's not the point, but I can see how that's your immediate take-away... I had to tuck myself in!!! MYSELF!! I don't have thumbs. I barely have legs! I have these sweet little T-rex arms. But yet! I was forced to pull the blanket over me all by my wiener lonesome. Sad sad day. I'm thinking of starting a union. First thing on the contract, more treats. Then, personal blanket tucker. More sunshine. And that personal blanket tucker will need to be an experienced belly rubber. I will put this on Craigslist!!! Hold please.

... Oh woe. Woe is me. Craigslist told me this was questionable and not suitable for people under the age of 18. They don't understand me. No one does. Meanwhile, that mini-person keeps kissing me and then gets all excited and dances around. Come on. Calm down. I need to rest. All this tucking.... wears you out.

Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog

December 8th, 2011

Dear Diary,

Today was going so well. Grand I'd even venture to say... Then that mini-person left half a fruit bar on his high chair. I knew I shouldn't jump up and take it. But, it was sitting RIGHT there. And I had clearance to pounce and take it. The honey badger in me beat up my Jiminy Cricket a LOOONNNGGG time ago, so of course, I took the fruit bar. And got caught. Oh sweet misery. No treats for me today. I got the "bad dog" talking to. Even mini-person got in on that. How condescending. He poops his pants and I'm the one who's wrong?? This is survival people!! This is how wienerdogs live in the wild!! Yes, by stealing Whole Foods Fruit Bars from high chairs! I think our wolf cousins taught us this... I don't know, ask Darwin. He'll know... (Darwin is a wise Malamute I once met in the park.)

I need to rest. This fiber is going through me like a dumptruck. Why do they buy the multi-grain fruit bars?!! They're rough on my system. They should know better. Course it may help me work through this sock I've been digesting. The mini person's friend's sock hasn't reappeared yet, nor her nanny-person's. Huh.

Sincerely,

Beans A. Wienerdog

December 6th, 2011

Dear Diary,


Number of injustices since last entry: 14
Number of snuggles: 12
Number of treats: buh
Number of insincere snuggles: 12

Mother person put up the sparkly tree in the house again. She's so lazy. TAKE A WALK OUTSIDE WOMAN!!! THERE ARE TONS OF TREES OUT THERE!!! Why bring it in the house?!?!! Course, it is adorned with several replicas of my gorgeous face. None of them do me justice, mind you. No one can recreate my bronze patches. 

The mini-person seems to think this whole this is AMAZING. And he's even impressed-- or a little shocked-- that there are replicas of ME and none of HIM on said tree. WELL!!! Isn't THIS a shocking turn of events!!!! Is there a figurine of YOU driving a car??? NO!!! (He does call it the "Dogger bruum bruum" which is slightly adorable, but only slightly.)  

Wearing a hat??

In a stocking???

HA!! I WIN!! I BEAT YOU LITTLE PERSON!!! Just this once. I'll take it and be joyful that I am supreme ornament muse. For about 5 minutes I will know bliss... and then it will fade away again. And I'll just be a wienerdog who doesn't get to eat an entire ribeye steak. Even when I ask nicely. Misery. I need my iron intake!! No wonder I'm so very weak. 

Sincerely, 

Beans A. Wienerdog

December 5th, 2011

Dear Diary,

As you can see, it's been a LONG time since I've been able to diary my life. I've been so withdrawn, you see. The misery and injustices just keep coming. Did you know I wasn't suppose to eat a plastic toddler snack cup???? (It doesn't hold toddlers, it holds their cheesy or peanut butter snacks.... Just clarifying.) It was delicious. Even if a bit hard on the gums. But NOOOOOOO. That's not FOR wienerdogs. Quell surprise?! What IS for wienerdogs?!?!?! Snuggles 24-7??? Cozy down blankets?! Sunshine patches all day?!?! Nope. None of those things happen either. I find ONE bit of joy in a stupid plastic cup... and I get a stern talking to and some plastic in my morning BM. Misery.

Look at me. How terrible is this?? They didn't fluff my blanket!!!!! It's "microfiber." I deserve nothing less than macrofiber!!! I don't know what that means by micro sounds small and something the cleaning staff sleeps with.

I'd like to mention I haven't eaten a sock in 3 days. And frankly, I don't think the mini-person's friend's sock... and her nanny-person's socks should count. I mean, it was fairly hilarious watching them walk home with only one sock each. Sigh. No one gets my humor.

Sincerely,

Beans A. Wienerdog

Oct. 31st

Dear Diary,

WOE IS ME. Oh woe. Woe has befallen my delicate ears, walnut sized head, and edibly cute feet. I have thrown up every AM since Friday. Usually around 5am. Am I pregnant, I asked myself?!?!? No. That's impossible. How ever could my greatness multiply?! Alas... I have decided that Mini Person's socks have gone rancid, and that's what's making me sick. Who leaves unfit to eat socks laying around?! He's a menace to the world and must be stopped. Mother Person said something about finding a new hamper for him that's dog proof. Good luck, lady. I know physics which is freakish for a dog-- I'll admit it. So you can't keep me away, maybe you should figure out why his socks make me sick, huh?? This isn't a "me" problem here. I am "sock free" at the moment though. I hope I don't get peckish this afternoon.

So, after Mother Person told me off for the vomit on the carpet (I don't like vomiting on the hard wood floor-- it seems rude to the wood and the tree that died to make it) she put me in this.

Not even the comfort of Soft Touch's lap could save my disgrace. She thinks I'm JUST a skeleton, and not Johnny from Karate Kid. She just doesn't get me. Soft Touch gave me snuggles and I licked his nose till he couldn't stand it any longer. That was fun. Mother Person did the same but I don't count those as genuine. I know pandering when I see it. 

Mini Person has also starting telling me "no" when I bark at the Evil Lurking Hallway creatures. Really? Fine. FINE. When he gets eaten by a Hallway monster because I wasn't allowed to protect him, don't come crying to me!!!!!!

Sigh. 

It snowed this weekend. What the heck is that?! I couldn't go to French class. I couldn't sniff the sidewalk properly. I see Mother Person eying my puffer jacket with way too much excitement. Misery. Je suis malheureux. (Phew, I haven't lost it... Je suis si intelligent.) 

Sincerely, 

Beans A Wienerdog

Oct. 28th

Dear Diary,

Number of Mini Person kicks to the head: 4
Treats given: 2 (sigh)

Mini Person likes to snuggle. He is NOT very good at it. He bounds over saying things that apparently refers to my species. (Dog? WTF?!! When did this happen?!?!?) Then there's either gentle patting, or a flurry of excited squeaks, strokes and giggles followed by loss of limb control. What do I do with this??!?! Soft Touch and Mother Person tell him to be "gentle." Sure. Just throw down the food, Bucko. That's all I need you for. Misery.

I saw Mother Person get out my skeleton costume. Or, as I refer to it, Johnny from Karate Kid. Johnny, pre-leg sweeping, dresses as a skeleton for Halloween. He then beat the tar out of that sniveling brat, Daniel. I mean, Daniel's pants fit funny and he MAYBE weighted a buck twenty. EAT SOMETHING DANIEL. I don't blame, Johnny, and I like his style sense... so I don't "mind" the skeleton costume, but I refuse to have it be labeled as something so mundane.


Napping. Must nap. But I do enjoy hiding under a good chair. Mini Person will never find me here... or will he... Misery.

Sleepless in NYC,
Beans A Wienerdog

Oct. 27th

Dear Diary,

Miserable things since last entry: 29
Treats given: 4

I GOT A NEW BONE!!!! I GOT A NEW BONE!! It's purple and has nubbies on it and I love it and it's MINE!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ALL MINE!!!!!!!! If Mini Person steals it or pitches it in the garbage can-- which is his new "cute" trick-- I will be VERY CROSS. How is that cute and me dry heaving a sock at 5am is "annoying"? I don't understand. Injustice.

The Mini Person got a Halloween costume in the mail-- an Ewok. God and everything that's holy help me if they make me be Princess Leah. I will NOT wear my ears in a bun again. And drapey white robes nor gold bikinis look good on my delicate frame. And! I'm a boy. Granted, I'm not terribly masculine, but that's besides the point. It's Halloween not "The Crying Game."

I GOT A NEW BONE!!!! But never fear, plenty to be miserable about.

Sincerely,
Beans A Wienerdog

Oct. 26th

Dear Diary,

Miserable things that have happened since last entry: I lost count
Treats given: like 2... MAYBE

It's sweat-ah weath-ah. I have short fur, and I get chilly when it dips below 65. I've been doning a sporting look these days before I go for the full cable knit mock turtle. In due time, I'll whip that out and look amazing.

By jingo, that's a bold profile! (Please ignore the fact that the "sleeves" had to be rolled up as I do have rather short legs in the front. Merf.)

I went to the park. I "played" with the Mini Person. Or rather, he plundered around trying to hit a ball with a stick while I sniffed. He ate dirt and Mother Person and Capt Soft Touch acted like he was OHHHH SO CUTE! I try to eat an acorn and I'm scolded. Dirt vs acorn-- what seems more like food to you, huh???? Injustice.

I threw up yesterday's sock at 5:45am. The People weren't impressed.

Sincerely,
Beans A Wienerdog

Oct. 25th

Dear Diary,

Busted.

Whatever, it was worth it. And Mother Person should buy Mini Person more interesting socks. This is just so mundane. A plaid perhaps? A quirky polka dot even? Live a little, lady.

Sigh. All my soap opera have been cancelled. Martha Stewart's time slot changed. I can't bare to deal with the DVR. It's all horrid, actually.

My squeaky mailman no longer squeaks. Buuuuhhhhhhhhhhh.

Might as well nap, but not in the sun, as we don't have a south facing apartment. Buuuuuuuuuuhhhhhhh.

Sincerely,
Beans A. Wienerdog

PS-- Only 2 treats so far today... No wonder I'm listless and lethargic.

Oct. 24th

Dear Diary,

Miserable things that occured today: 29
Treats given: 3
Socks eaten: 3

Oh woe is me. Halloween is coming. A dreaded holiday for pups like me. We are incredibly cute and people want to dress us up to make us look even cuter. I despise this. Look at me. That's ridiculous. And that's before I ate the "headpiece." Misery.

Thank god they didn't make me wear this... but the fact that its still in Mother Person's computer makes me pause.

Honestly, what the hell is that?!?! Horrified. If this doesn't serve a poop in the shoe, I don't know what does.

I may go eat a sock. I know it's wrong, but those Mini Person socks are more like an amuse bouche, so I don't think they count. Although Mother person continues to get in a snit about it. Quell surprise.

Miserable,
Beans A Wienerdog

Oct. 21st... later

Dear Diary,

Miserable things since last entry: 3
Treats given: 1 (I may have stolen it, but I'll count it anyway)

It might rain. I have half an inch ground clearance. That means my delicate paws will most certainly spray my tender underbelly with dirty rain water. Sacre bleu!!!! Huh, those French lessons may be paying off. Pilates was still a waste of time.

Must shake the bejeezus out of a toy now in my attempt to scare Fill In Nanny Person.

Sincerely,

Beans A. Wienerdog

Friday, October 21st

Dear Diary,

Miserable things that happened since yesterday: 17
Treats given: 2. (2 LOUSY TREATS!!!!!!!)

I know my therapist tells me not to count all the ways I'm miserable, but when it rules most of my day, it's hard to look the other way. The Mini Person is still living here. It's been 19 months now and that guy is NOT getting that much more advanced. I don't know why they're keeping him. He keeps getting bigger. Taking up more snuggle room on the couch. And the bed!! WHY IS HE ALLOWED ON THE BED!!! I wasn't allowed until I was 4 when Mother Person finally caved from my constant whining and merfing. (It didn't warrant a bark, just a merf.) Or was it because she got a platform bed and I could jump in it? Bygones... All I know is that this is injustice.

The sun moved again. I was laying in it. Then I wasn't. WTF.

The crazy beagle across the hall is howling again. He really needs to work on his pitch. He shouldn't be doing this at all unless there's a valid reason for it: badgers in the hallway, edible socks strewn willy nilly in the hallway (so I eat socks, sue me) or nasty bacon robbers who again, would be in the hallway. I agree with him that evil lurks in our apartment building's hallway, but learn to contain yourself, Beagle. Mother Person believes that barking at the delivery guys is unnecessary. (Mother Person doesn't cook anymore since the Mini Person came along... Read: lazy.) I think she should realize the correlation between "no delivery men looting the apartment" and "my barking." But noooooooo. I'm wrong. Me. With my long velvet ears. Injustice.

Mini Person took his eye off the cheesy poofs. Delicious. Fill In Nanny Lady scolded me. Who do you think you are?!?!! I am Beans Aloysius Wienerdog!!! YOU do NOT scold ME. I will now eat her gum, a pen and take a tampon out of her purse and parade it around. Take that Fill In Nanny Lady!!!

I must rest. My paw are so sore from the typing.

Thank you, Diary. You're the only one who listens. Merf.