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.