Dyna 2.0

Check it: Thanks to AMC (who is teh awesome, OMFG), the female gave me a twitter account. That way, I can update everyone on my daily life with my iPhone while she works on the computer. My tweets will show up here (actually, over there----------------------------------->),
or you can follow them at http://twitter.com/dynadeaton. I'll still do longer blog postings, but this way you can get more Dyna. And more Dyna means more happy.

This lady says dogs can't tweet. I'm thinking dogs can't resist biting her.

3 questions and Congrats

One of the things I like about having a blog is that not only can I talk to everyone but they can also talk to me. Sometimes it's tough to tell if the voices are coming from the internet or my head. Anyway, I thought I'd take this post to answer a couple of questions I have gotten—I am pretty sure they came from people who read this blog. If you have a question you can email me at dyna.dookie@gmail.com and I will answer it. Maybe.

1. Why is Gunny's last name Shultz?

Because he is adopted. DUH.

Okay, Gunny's last name is Shultz not only because he is adopted but also because the Female is a big believer in animals having last names. What a freak. I am the only one in the family that has the same last name as Daddy (even the Female has a different last name, which is just proof I love him more than she does). I love my last name because with my first and middle names, my initials spell DAD, and Daddy is my true love.

But Gunny is named after a Gunny Daddy knew in the Marine Corps. I don't know if that Gunny was a Rotteiler too—I don't think so because that Gunny was kind of like Daddy's boss and Daddy doesn't let our Gunny boss him around at all. But what's weird is that our Gunny is technically named after this Gunny Shultz, but our Gunny's real name is Gunston. That's because the Female is such a nerd and drags Daddy to dorky historical things, and they both liked visiting Gunston Hall. But if Gunny is named after Gunston Hall, his last name should be Hall, right? I'm confused too. I blame the Female.

2. You don't really have a car, do you?

Yes I do, bitches. You know you're jealous. Check out my whip. I have mad driving skills.

My ride is solid gold because I am really into bling. What sucks is I do have to share it with the other pets, but no one but me is allowed to drive. I'm sick of driving the cats to their secret meetings, though.

The cats want me to thank Hannah and Charlie for the "OH HAI!" sticker the female MADE me put on my car. I don't even know who Hannah and Charlie ARE but our cats told me to tell them, "Stay strong, sisters. Our hour is nigh." Cats are so weird. We only have cats because the female was a crazy lonely spinster cat lady before Daddy took pity on her.

3. Who's a pretty girl?

I am! Check me with my mums.

4. I am also supposed to say congratulations to Erin, who just turned one. Great job Erin! I remember when I turned one. It was awesome. I am also supposed to say congratulations to Steve and Meghan, who had a baby. Good for you guys! Way to procreate! I don't really know what's entailed in all that since I was forcibly sterilized, but good for you two. Way to not be neutered.

Dog Debate

Today is a historic day for dog bloggers everywhere (or just me) because today we are going to talk politics. A couple of weeks (or two hours) ago, the Female bought Gunny and me these buttons.

They are awesome! You can get ones just like them at thedogcoatlady's store on etsy. Anyway, I wore my button proudly, but as soon as the Female left the house, Gunny took his off. And he doesn't have thumbs, so that took some doing. It turns out Gunny doesn't like Obama—Gunny thinks John McCain should be president! Gunny also thinks the rubber red bone is his (AND IT ISN'T), but that's a different blog post.

Gunny and I have been fighting about politics ever since, and to resolve it, we decided to have a debate on the Dookie Patrol blog. When we asked the Female if we could have a debate on the blog, she said something about how two dogs debating politics could only raise the level of discourse in Smith County, and then she compared arguing on the internet with running in the Special Olympics, but I forgot exactly what she said. Anyway, the Female is weird, as usual, but she said we could. Here's the first internet presidential debate with canine surrogates. I get to go first.

Why I think Barack Obama Should Be President

By Dyna Anne Deaton

There are a lot of things wrong with the country today. People are looking at their 401(k) statements the same way they look at piddle stains on the carpet. And like people who have piddle on their carpet, they are looking from dog to dog, trying to assign blame, even though ONE dog hasn't peed on the carpet for YEARS and only did it that one time because she was really, really sick and didn't know that the house was being put on the market the next day. The other dog, however, just peed on the floor in front of the people a few days ago. Don't be fooled—if you want to know who caused your problems, look to the dog who most recently peed on the floor. That dog is the Republican Party, and John McCain answers to that dog.

Now, they don't want to just pee on the floor, they want to do twosies on it too. Barack Obama is about change. Not just changing where we pee, but about good change that will benefit the most people and their dogs.

I support Barack Obama because his healthcare plan will help people who can't get health insurance. I understand that because I don't have health insurance, and it is really expensive every time I go to the doctor, even if all they do if shove a thermometer up my butt. But people need thermometers shoved up their butts too, and that costs a lot of money. The Obama health plan would be very good for human puppies because it would get more of them health insurance, and that's good because I remember going to the vet a lot when I was a puppy and that was not cheap.

Even though Obama isn't all that experienced, he is very smart. He went to a good school (though not as good as my obedience school) and he worked really hard while there and went to a good law school too. He was smart enough to pick Joe Biden to be Vice President. I love Joe Biden because he is from Delaware and I am from Delaware too. Delaware gets no respect, but if Joe Biden were Vice President, maybe people would quit pushing Delaware around and complaining about the tolls they charge there when there is a PERFECTLY SIMPLE route through Newark that avoids the tolls and if you weren't so lazy, you wouldn't have to pay another toll in Delaware EVER, so SHUT YOUR YAP.

I make under $250,000 a year, so my taxes won't go up in an Obama administration. Also, Barack sounds kind of like "bark" so you know he is pro-dog.

I am also worried that if Sarah Palin because vice president she would start aerial hunting of Labradors. I am also worried that a McCain administration would infringe on abortion rights. I am lucky to have been a wanted Labrador, but there are a lot of puppies who are born just to end up in shelters and if a dog doesn't want to have a litter of puppies she shouldn't have to. We need to protect her right to sell those puppies or not to have them at all—especially since dogs can't buy condoms.

Finally, he doesn't say it, but I know Obama supports gay rights and that means maybe one day if people let gay people get married they could think about letting dogs marry people and then I could marry my Daddy, Barack Obama would be president, and life would be perfect.

Why I Think John McCain Should be President

By Gunston Theodor Shultz

No presidential candidate has sacrificed as much for his country as John McCain has, that means John McCain has done a lot of hard stuff and he's done it all for the country, not himself. As a military veteran, I applaud and respect John McCain and know he has the leadership skills to take the U.S. through this hard time, that means he'll tell us what to do and be right about it.

Okay, Mommy just reminded me that even though everyone calls me Gunny, I am not serving, nor have I ever served in the military. Just because I am named after a Gunnery Sergeant doesn't mean I am a Gunnery Sergeant. I forget that sometimes because at my heart I know I am a DEVIL DOG and ready to GET SOME, SEMPER FI!!!

Anyway, Barack Obama has a lot of ideas about what he can do for the country, and what the country can do for you. That is wrong. He wants to take stuff away from hardworking dogs and give it to dogs that don't work as hard. Like if there is a red rubber bone and you want that bone, you have to go get it, even if it means fighting for a really long time with a certain Labrador and waiting until you have a 30 pound weight advantage over her to just take the bone. That's what America is about: getting bigger and stronger than everyone else then using that to take whatever you want. But even if you won that bone fair and square in an epic game of tug, Obama wants to walk right in and take that bone and give it to the Labrador just because she's smaller than you and because that somehow makes the game of tug unfair. Let me tell you, the rubber bone isn't the only thing that's red in that scenario. Obama will take bones from big dogs and give them to little dogs and that's COMMUNISM.

John McCain understands the best way to make the economy work is to get out of the way and let businesses create jobs. It's like this: if the people make money, then they buy food and bones and leashes and balls for dogs and then it's like the dogs have some of that money too. If the government steps in and taxes the people's money then they will have less money to spend on their dogs, or worse the government might start telling people what kind of dogs they can have or what kind of food they can give the dogs and then the people will buy less stuff for the dogs and it will be like no one has any money. If you let the people keep their money, it will trickle down to the dogs and that will grow the economy.

Barack Obama doesn't even HAVE a dog, so I don't know why Dyna thinks he is pro dog. I heard he is allergic to dogs.

Barack Obama won't keep the country safe, that means he will let our enemies attack us because he is weak and people will think we are all weak too. He says he will sit down and talk to Iran. Everyone knows that if someone is making you mad you don't talk to them---you show them who is boss. Like there are these dogs who are always coming into my yard and pooping and I don't talk to them. I would go and mess those bitches up if only the U.N. (or Mommy) would let me and so you know that John McCain wouldn't let Iran poop in our yard and if he caught Iran pooping in our yard he'd go right out, leash or no leash, and fix them.

So if you want to keep your bones and not have Iran poop in your yard, vote John McCain.

A Fair Is a Veritable Smogasbord

When Daddy and the Female said September was fair month, I was all excited because I thought that meant that I would get to eat whatever they eat (including sausage) because, to be fair we all have to eat the same thing. It turns out I was wrong and Daddy and the Female are the most unfair, elitist scrooges ever. They will eat sausages right in front of you and not give you any no matter what month it is.

Anyway, we started out by going to the East Texas State Fair, which was right here in Tyler. It was so embarrassing. The Female wore a blue shirt, khakis and ballet flats. She's so stupid. Everyone knows that fairs are about judging produce, quilts and rednecks, not who can look like a refugee from the J Crew catalog. She should know that when you go to a fair, you should wear camouflage, in case you suddenly have to go hunting.

Or overalls, in case you suddenly turn into a three year old.



At the fair, there was a lot to eat, and most of the food came from Daddy's favorite food group: fried. You could get a nice entree.

Be healthy by eating your veggies.


And even have dessert (with choice of toppings, including Crestor).


We got deep fried Oreos. Actually, only Daddy and the Female got deep fried Oreos, because we were at the East Texas State Unfair.

They told me that if I was hungry, I could go catch myself some beef. Bitches.


But the little girls who were with the beef scared me. They look little, but they had giant sticks that they were poking the beef with. I didn't want them to poke me.



The creepiest thing was at the State Fair in Dallas, though. There they have this giant monster cowboy named Big Tex. Uncle Bacon said it was really awesome, and that I would like seeing it.

He didn't say it had moobs.

The Wrath of Bob Barker

Sorry I haven't posted in a little while. It turns out that I was at Grandma's! house. I don't really remember going to Grandma's! house, but her house is so much fun you black out, so that must have been what happened.

What I do remember is the Female being gone for a long time, and I started to get really excited because I thought maybe she was gone for good and Daddy would let me on the bed to sleep with him and I would get my own car instead of having to share with Gunny and I would get to eat from a plate like Daddy does too. But then the Female came back and she smelled like Grandma's! house and I got really excited that she smelled like Grandma's! and but also mad because I wanted to go to Grandma's! too. Then the Female and Daddy started saying we all went to Grandma's! and didn't I remember going? I don't really remember it, but I guess I could have gone because going to Grandma's! is so much fun. I am really glad I got to go. It made me not miss Grandma! so much.

Once we got back from Grandma's! there was a big storm. This just proves that Bob Barker hates it when we're far from Grandma, because he controls the weather. It was really windy and really rainy. Gunny and I decided we needed to keep a close eye on the weather, so we asked to go out every 15 minutes. Then we stood in the yard, taking measurements. It looked like we were staring off into space, but we were really taking measurments. We were going to log on to make our report to the Weather Channel, when the power went out. This was awesome because it meant that the Female and Daddy stopped watching the TV and computer and started paying attention to Gunny and me. Sometimes it isn't good to have the people pay attention to you when the power is out, because they notice you're out and about and they lock you up so they can go upstairs and do married things. I don't know what they are doing when they do married things. I assume they are going to Home Depot, but they usually go upstairs to do married things and I haven't seen a Home Depot up there, and I've been looking.

The power stayed off for so long that the Female and Daddy ran out of married things to do. We all went to bed and the power was still off when we got up. And then, Daddy and the Female got stupid. Now, you know I love Daddy, but sometimes I think the time he spends with the female makes him a little slow. The people got up to brush their teeth, and found out the the water was off. They were a little bit upset. I don't know why. Everyone knows that the water that comes INTO the house is BATH water and baths are BAD. I was really, really happy that the bath water couldn't get into the house. Daddy and the Female weren't, though. Weirdos. Besides, there is a GIANT LAKE across the street. We had plenty of water. Daddy and the Female are just silly sometimes.

Anyway, the power and the water came on later in the day, which was good because we got to watch the Steelers game. I love the Steelers.

Three Nice Things about The Female

I am not on punishment anymore! Did you miss me? I am sorry you had to read what Gunny wrote. He's so dumb. Everyone knows we've seen Grandma! and Grandpa since we've been to Texas! We got into our car (it's our car because the Female and Daddy only use it when we're going with them. It is a very valuable classic car). I remember the trip well—we drove to the gas station, Daddy filled up the gas can for the lawn mower, then I must have been so excited to see Grandma! and Grandpa that I blacked out because the next thing I knew we were at home and the Female and Daddy were saying "Wasn't that fun! We were at Grandma's! house!"

They wouldn't lie to me.

When Daddy talked to me about why I was In Trouble and on punishment he said I need to start being nicer to the Female when I write about her on my blog. So, here are three nice things about the female:

1. She has nice ears. When she and Daddy got me, her ears were very long and light gray. Now they are short and slightly darker gray. They are silky, like an Afghan Hound's ears, which is neat. I wish I had ears like that—the Female can pull her ears back out of her way. My ears are too short for that. The Female must have a lot of ear wax though, because she washes her ears everyday. Also, sometimes she points the loud hot air gun at her ears. That's just weird. Daddy doesn't have ears. He has these wrinkly things on the side of his head, but not proper, pretty ears like the Female.
2. She's easy to trick. I wouldn't be able to run off as much if the Female weren't so trusting. I like that about her.
3. She takes me places and buys me things. Like, we went to the grocery store again this weekend, and she said we could get some ice cream. Someone told her that in Texas, you eat Blue Bell ice cream, because it is really good. I think it's good but they don't have any good flavors like Snausages or bone marrow. Nothing is so refreshing on a hot day as a cone of Snausage ice cream. The Blue Bell Moo-Lenium crunch isn't even beef flavored! Since I didn't see any ice cream flavors I liked, I thought I might get an ice cream bar or sandwich. That's when I saw the boxes of Blue Bell ice cream bars and sandwiches.

What the hell, Texas? The ice cream is good, but the box is SCARY.

Gunny's First Post

Dyna is on punishment and so Mommy said she can't write on her blog so I get to write on her blog. That's what happens when you are a BAD DOG. You get put on punishment and can't do the things that you like to do, but I was a good dog and get to do the things I like to do because I was not a BAD DOG. Being a BAD DOG means that you did something you weren't supposed to do, like eat from the kitty liter box or the counter or nomming on one of Mommy's shoes or running away or pooping upstairs and trying to hide the evidence by eating it, but forgetting you ate the poop and licking Mommy so she knows you ate it anyway. Sometimes not doing what you ARE supposed to do also makes you a BAD DOG like if you are supposed to be sleeping and decide to lick your privates really loudly for 45 minutes. Licking your privates doesn't make you a BAD DOG all the time but it does if you are supposed to be sleeping.

So far I like Texas. I don't like it as much as I like cheese, but I like it more than I like bread. In Texas, there are many things that are different from Virginia. That means they are not the same. In Texas, Mommy is home all day and I like that a lot because it means that I am not left alone with Dyna who only watches bad shows on TV like Judge Joe Brown and never lets me pick what shows we watch. I love Mommy but sometimes I wish she wasn't at home because when she is home she is working and that means we can't have the TV on and so I don't get to watch any shows at all and that is worse than watching Judge Joe Brown.

Another thing that is different in Texas is that my Grandma and Grandpa are not in Texas and I don't see them so I miss them. When you miss someone it means you wish they were there because they give you steak or because you like knocking them down or because they scratch your ears and when they are gone you want them to do that stuff but they can't because they are not with you.

In Texas, these dogs keep coming into my yard. I don't like that. It's MY yard. I share with Dyna because she is my sister and Mommy says I have to and I love my Mommy so I do what she says. Except when I see another dog in my yard I don't do what she says because she tells me to be quiet and come in and I don't. That doesn't mean I stop loving her it means I want that other dog out of my yard and they should stay out because its mine and I forget about doing what Mommy says because the other dog isn't listening to me. Like today this dog came into my yard and pooped and that made me mad because I had just gotten the yard to smell the way I like it which means it smelled like ME.

I was really mad and needed to go out and fix the yard and I thought I might fix the other dog too but my mommy is smart and knew that I shouldn't try and fix the other dog and I know that too but it's just that they make me so mad sometimes I forget to listen to Mommy. So when I needed to go out Mommy put the big super long leash on me so I would stay close and not go fix that dog because when you try and fix another dog you are actually being a BAD DOG (even if the other dog was bad FIRST) and you will get IN TROUBLE.

I went out and fixed the yard but when I came back in the leash got tangled in the outdoor table which is the table Mommy and Daddy eat at when they eat outside and the leash got tangled on it because the leash is like a million feet long even though it doesn't actually have a feet. The leash got tangled and that made the table move and when the table moved it made a scary sound like SSCHHHHHRRRRRRCHHHHHHHH and that scared me so I ran but that made the table move more which made it go SSSSSSSCCCCCCCHHHHHHRRRCHHHHHHH more and that scared me so I ran more and the table went SSSCHHHHHHHHHRRRRCCCCCHHHHHH and then Jesus showed up.

I never actually saw Jesus, but Mommy started yelling "Gunny! Jesus Christ! JESUS CHRIST!" and that got my attention because people in Texas love Jesus but I never met the guy and I'd like to because he is supposed to be really great and Texans love him so much I thought he must go around handing out cookies or playing ball or building Ferris wheels. But I didn't see Jesus and that made me sad, but the scary noise stopped and that made me happy, so I don't know if Jesus was scared by the scary noise and ran away or if he stopped it. I think he must have done something to the table because by then it and a few of the chairs were off the patio and into the yard like they were coming after me and maybe Jesus stopped them or threw them across the yard to get the noise to stop. Next time I am in the yard I am going to look more closely for Jesus because I would like to say hello unless he is in my yard because it is MY YARD and he shouldn't come into it and make it smell like Jesus unless he wants me to fix him.

Photo Essay: Light Gray Cat

On Saturday night, Daddy and the female went to Dallas to see Dave Matthews banned. I don't know who Dave Matthews is or what he did, but it must be something pretty bad if the female wants him banned. She is all about free speech. But start barking when she's on a conference call and suddenly her office turns into Tiananmen Square. I know she was on a call, but there was a distinct possibility that a squirrel might be in our yard. I was just announcing that possibility.

Anyway, since the bipeds were gone, me and the other quadrupeds had arts and crafts night. The dark gray cat knitted an afghan.

Gunny worked on his embroidery.

And I decided to do a photo essay about the light gray cat. The only problem is, the female can't find the charger to the good camera, so I had to use her iPhone camera. I don't know how I can progress in my art under these conditions.

The light gray cat likes to get high. Daddy and the female say he is on drugs. I just think he likes the view from the top of the fridge. I call this shot "Jenny Craig Cat."

The light gray cat can also balance on top of doors.

And jump to the top of the useless cabinet behind the Motor Trend reading chair.

The light gray cat is my friend. He and I are training for the synchronized tummy rub-begging competition at the Olympics.

But Gunny ruins everything.

Plus, the light gray cat has a mind like a sieve.

I lIke Texans

Yesterday I went to the grocery store with the female. In Texas, dogs are allowed in grocery stores. They can also hold public office. I am very glad dogs are allowed in grocery stores because I wanted to make sure the female bought the right food. She's always buying stuff like carrots, and Daddy doesn't like carrots. The female should by food Daddy likes, but not potato chips because I ate a whole bunch of those once and threw up. So, she should buy food Daddy likes that I can eat too, like bacon, cat poop or an entire elk.

At the store, the female bought this magazine.
The check-out lady said, "You trying to be a Texan?" (except she talked funny so it was more like "Yu trii-eean' tu be uh Texan?").

"Yes," said the female.

"You should probably quit buying these."



Oh, Texans! I love you because even though you talk funny, you think the female is as dumb as I do!

FREE DYNA!

Because I ran away from the Female yesterday, I am On Punishment. I am a Bad Dog.

The only thing that sucks about being On Punishment is when Daddy says I am a Bad Girl and that Gunny is the Good Dog. That makes me sad. Otherwise, I have discovered that being a Bad Dog is kind of fun. Like yesterday? When the Female let me out? I ran from the backyard to the front yard, and she was yelling at me to come back, that we'd play ball, which is a LIE the Female uses when she wants to put me in the house. And I knew she couldn't play ball because I had the ball in my mouth, which makes the Female mad because when I have the ball she can't trick me into thinking she's going to play ball.

I only ran into the front yard because the ups man was there. I don't get the ups man. He's supposed to put things up, but only puts them down on the porch. Anyway, he was getting into his truck, so I thought I'd get in too. Then I had a better idea—the ups man could play ball with me! So I dropped my ball for him and he threw it, which was like the most awesome thing EVAR, OMFG, and then the bastard drove away. What can brown do for you? Apparently through the ball and leave. If the ups man ever comes to my house again, I am going to mess him up. He is not my homey.

By then the Female was yelling something at me and dragging Gunny into the house and I thought, "I'm getting too old for this shit." I'm three. I stay home alone. I've got a pilot's license. I should be able to explore my own damn street. And let me tell you, my street is pretty hardcore. Across the street is a house with a pool. That's a little pond that smells like the bathroom right after the Female cleans it. It looked pretty nice to me, so I swam in it. Then this dog came over and barked! At me! I ignored him. I had better things to do. I went to the next house and another dog came out. Then I went to the next house but those two stupid dogs were following me, and finally I ended up at another house where there were two dogs in a fence, and they were yelling at me. All the dogs were yelling at me and I was getting annoyed. How are you supposed to relax by the pool with a bunch of shrieking dogs around?

Them I heard something WORSE than the shrieking dogs. The female was calling me—and she had a ball. I am powerless before the ball, so I hightailed it up to her to get it. Maybe if the other dogs saw that I was a dog with ball—an important ball—they'd STFU. But then the Female put a leash on me. It was so embarrassing.

So now I have to wear a leash when we go outside, at least until we get a fence up. Last night the Female left my leash outside, and look who was on it this morning:

I am pretty sure that spider works for the ACLU.

Ridin' Dirty

Okay, so I know it has been a while since I posted and everyone wants to hear about Texas. Let me tell you: Texas is awesome but confusing. Like, our new yard? It has no fence, which is awesome. But when you run off because you're feeling free and unconstrained from not having a fence, jump in the neighbor's pool and get found standing in the road soaking wet a quarter mile from home, you get in trouble. Texas is tough.

First I have to tell you about how we got to Texas. The female says I have to thank my Uncle Brian, who helped get us the short bus we drove out here. She says uncle Brian works for hurts. Like most things the female says, this makes no sense. But because Uncle Brian works for hurts, we got a short bus. Sometimes I think the female is batshit. Anyway, here's our short bus.



Here's Daddy driving the short bus. You see us rolling. You be hating.


We were in the short bus forever! I am pretty sure we would have made it to Texas in like 15 minutes if Daddy hadn't let the female drive. But he does nice things for her so she doesn't know that she's totally useless. If he had let me drive, we would have been there in no time. Here I am in the back with all the stupid boys--and yes, even though the cats are cats, they're still nasty boys.

Daddy doesn't know this, but I am pretty sure the female got us lost. Daddy was taking a nap because he was tired from supporting the entire fandamily, so the female was driving. She drove through Tennis Sea, which is not a giant sea of tennis balls, so don't be disappointed when you get there. Anyway, I guess Tennis Sea was ending because the female made that "hmm" noise she makes when she's really confused, which is like all the time. Then she goes, "Honey, do you remember driving through Georgia on the last trip?" and Daddy didn't answer because he was sleeping, and she should learn to respect that. I wish I could have spanked her for bothering Daddy, but luckily he didn't wake up and the female kept making more and more confused noises, and I started to get happy because the female was going to get In Trouble. Then she went, "Whew. We're in Alabama." The dark gray cat said he thought that was the first time in human history those words had been spoken and laughed like the joke was really funny, but I don't get it.

So, despite the female being a total screw up, we made it to Texas. And the Lake! that the female told me about turns out to be really, really awesome. It's like I hoped Tennis Sea would be--you can swim in it and fetch tennis balls! We go there almost every day. Here is Gunny and Daddy at the lake.
That dog behind them is Mia. Mia says it's her lake. I think Mia is full of shit. Mia tried to hump Gunny and Gunny was all, "DO NOT WANT." The female says Gunny gets mad when other dogs hump him because he finds it emasculating. I am not sure what emasculating means, but I think it means "Gunny has a small penis and is sensitive about it."

This is me swimming in the lake. I am the best swimmer in all of Texas.

Anyhoo, I am going to try and post more regularly now. I was waiting to post because the female can't find the thingy that takes pictures from the camera and puts them on the computer. I told her to get off her lazy butt and find it, but she still hasn't. I had to drive myself to Target and put the pictures on CD to show these to you. If the female doesn't find the camera thingy soon and it interferes more with my blogging, I am sooo telling Daddy we were in Georgia. Then he will tell the female that she was a Bad Girl and maybe make her sleep on the floor and I can sleep with him. Then Texas will be perfect.

KTHXBai!

I wrote the title in LOLcat to show you that I am multi-lingual and because I have figured out why we've been staying in Grandmas! basement for the last two years (or six hours). There's an FBI clue in the title.

Okay, the Female pointed out that there are two possible clues in the title, so here is a hint: the answer isn't Kentucky. Or Bai.

And wait . . .the answer I wanted isn't in there. The female says the abbreviation for Texas is TX, not THX. So, if you thought I had an entry about THX surround sound (if I were in surround sound, I could bark so loud!), sorry.

Leaving clues is hard. This is very anticlimactic.

My whole fandamily is moving to Texas. It is a whole different state. Here are the states that I have been in:

1. Delaware
2. Virginia
3. Shock
4. Denial
5. Maryland

Soon I will have been in lots more states (the Female keeps threatening to put me in a state of Disrepair, but I am not sure where that is. I think it is near Missouri.).

Daddy and the Female have already been to Texas, and Daddy is there now because he had to work (he did not go away forever because I was a bad dog. I don't care what the cat says). My Daddy has a very important job. He does sarcasm professionally. The Female says he is like a please man, but she said please with two syllables--Daddy is a puh-leeze man. Everyone knows that when you say puh-leeze you are being sarcastic, and Daddy is so good at being sarcastic, he gets paid for it. He's a sarcasmatitian.

Sometime in the next three hours (or five years) Daddy is going to come home and get me, the cats, Gunny and the Female (if I don't off her first--then Daddy and I will be alone in Texas, which is better than being with the Female anywhere) and take us to our new home. The Female says we are renting a car especially for Gunny and me--a short bus. It's for special dogs like us. We're going to drive to Texas through A LOT of different states and when we get there I will be the most well-traveled dog ever, and any dog who claims different is full of it (The Incredible Journey my ASS! The Call of the Wild can suck my left nut. If I were not spayed. And female.).

I am going to blog a lot about my adjustment to Texas. The Female keeps telling me we are going to live on a lake. She says this in the voice she uses when she wants to get me really excited, so I am pretty sure a lake is a very good thing or a very bad thing. I will let you know.

Kristen mas Ham

I don't know what the hell got into the people yesterday. For the longest time we've been staying at Grandma's! House (actually, my sense of time isn't all that good. We've either been here for two years or six hours). I love Grandma's! House because when I am at Grandma's! House, I am allowed to do whatever I want, up to and including driving Grandma's! car. I have not exercised that option yet, but you can bet your bippy I will, sho 'nuff.

Anyway, Grandma's! House is awesome. There are almost always people around and there are a lot more dogs too. In the eight years (or two weeks) that I have been visiting Grandma's! House, Vera and Mulligan have been there. The people say Vera and Mulligan are my ant and uncle. I don't know what these people have been smoking, because I don't think Vera is an ant. For one, she went to obedience school with me, and I don't think they let ants in (I went to a very exclusive school -- DOGS ONLY). Also, this one time I heard that ants could lift like a billion times their own body weight so I decided to sit on Vera and she was all, "DO NOT WANT!" and I got in big trouble. So either the Animal Planet is wrong or all the people in my life are, and everyone knows Animal Planet is infallible and the voice of God (like the Pope), so I think the people that I live with are just stupid and wouldn't know an ant if it threw a tennis ball for them.

Mulligan might be my uncle, though. At least he is a Labrador. Labradors are the best dogs ever. No diggity.

So yesterday things were ca-razy at Grandma's! House. Ok not really. Grandma! left the house kind of early and ant Maggie (who I also don't think is actually an ant, though she was able to push me off when I sat on her) left the house. I knew something was up because Ant Maggie almost never leaves the house early. I didn't know she was able to get up if the Price is Right (amen) didn't summon her. Then Grandpa got up and had breakfast and Mulligan said that was because it was Saturday, even though the Price is Right (amen) was on and the people were gone all day and usually my Daddy stays with me on Saturdays because he luuuvs me. Then female came home and said she was an ant, which was kind of shocking to me because if she's an ant she's been keeping it a secret for a while, and I don't know if Daddy will like sleeping with an ant, but that may work out better for me because if the female doesn't sleep with Daddy then I can sleep alone with Daddy and that would be a dream come true, I ain't gonna lie.

Finally Grandma! came home and said she was a real grandma, and I was all, "Bitch, I'll cut you." I don't know what she meant because she's got me and Gunny. We’re good granddogs and if you want to count the dark and light gray cats, she even has grandcats, so she's been a real grandma for a long time.

I listened more to the people talking and I realized that maybe one of the people had done something to make Grandma! a grandma again, and sho 'nuff Ant Kristen (I don't know if she is a real ant. She won't let me sit on her because she is NO FUN) had had a GIANT BEBE. At least, that's what the female kept saying. I think a GIANT BEBE must be some kind of ham, because the female said Ant Kristen made it with Uncle Bacon, and everyone knows only good things come from Bacon, and ham is a good thing. Also, the GIANT BEBE weighed more than ten pounds, and that seems like a good amount of ham to me. I saw a picture of the GIANT BEBE and it was the same shade of gray as ham, and didn't have any hair, like ham. GIANT BEBE must be a fancy kind of ham.

I am pretty sure Ant Kristen and Uncle Bacon wanted a Golden Retriever, or maybe a confederate general, because they named their ham Jackson. Here is a picture of their fancy GIANT BEBE ham Jackson. I hope they share.

Word to Your Dyna

Now that I am three, the female says I can have my own blog. Its not as a good as a being allowed to play ball in the house, but it's better than when the female asks if I want a cookie, and am all, "Hell yeah I want a cookie. I am a dog. I always want a fucking cookie." But she keeps asking if I want a cookie, and I get excited because --let's be honest-- cookies are the shizzle, so I'm jumping around and I know I look stupid but when you know there is cookie coming and you sit still you'd better stay away from me because you are dead inside, mofo. Anyway, the female does that and gets me all hopped up on cookie anticipation (which would be a great band name) and then gives me an ice cube. A fucking ice cube. Like that's anywhere near as good as a cookie. It's water, damn it. Water that's cold and solid, but not round like a ball. Sometimes it sticks to my tounge and that fucking blows.

So yeah -- having a blog is not as good as playing ball in the house, but better than thinking you're going to get a cookie and getting some shitty peice of ice instead.

What would make this blog better is if I didn't have to share it with the dog who lives with me. The male and female say he's my brother. They must think I am retarded. Yeah, I have like five brothers, but none of them are rottweilers, and that's what Gunny (the dog I live with) is. Mom may have had sex for money, then sold the resulting babies, but she never did it with a rottwieller.

Ok, so this is my blog. I'm Dyna. You can call me Agent Tough Pup. I'm head of the Dookie Patrol.