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.