Thursday, October 25, 2012


My name is Peanut. I live with my master and mistress (Mom and Pop) and two cats. You’re probably wondering how I got such an inappropriate name. I suppose it might be because I weighed only two-and-a-half pounds when I came here, and I guess I am sort of peanut-colored. Even so, it doesn’t suit me. I’ve considered changing it, but everyone in the neighborhood knows me, so it would be cruel and confusing.

I have a large house and yard to guard. More responsibility than a small-uh - I mean single dog should have on his shoulders. However, I don’t flinch at carrying out my duties, no matter how arduous.

The household has accepted my leadership pretty well. Oh, it took some time, but all is settled now. I decide when it’s time to get up each morning, meal times, snack times, and bedtime for me and cats.

Patches is the elder cat. She ruled things around here before I arrived. She was the hardest member of the family to convince of my high position, but she has come into line for the most part. Actually, she ignores me a lot, except when I put my foot down when she moves into my space.

Baby is aptly named, as she’s a rag-doll breed. She is so laid back that I have to prod her into playing with me. As long as she is fed and can go outside to lie in the sun, she’s content. I rarely have to discipline her.

Pop is lots of fun. Almost always when I’m ready to play, he accommodates me - especially since he retired. He chases me around the house and sharpens my skills in scaring off the guys.

Mom - well she’s not so playful. She tosses toys for me to fetch, but racing around the table is not her idea of exercise. She does control the treats and is fairly generous. Both of them give me tidbits from their table, but mostly I have to depend on dull dog food. I can’t really complain. I’ve grown to ten-and-a-half pounds in less than two years.

The weight gain has been a great advantage. I can now push the swinging door in the kitchen open enough to get through, so no one can hide what they are doing from me.

I love company, especially Carmen. She cuddles me and plays. Most visitors like me and don’t mind me jumping up for attention, but after a few minutes, I’m commanded to knock it off. Sometimes my exuberance gets the best of me and I don’t listen. Unfortunately, this usually means I get snatched up and stuck outdoors - on a leash for heaven’s sake. How humiliating!

How I’m supposed to do my job as a guard when I can only travel ten feet beats me.

A couple of neighboring cats like to hang out by the squirrel’s tree. I can’t allow that invasion of my beat. My ferocious bark and threatening demeanor usually frightens them away, even though I’m tethered to a porch post.

I hate going to the grooming place. That guy trims my fur almost to my skin. The last time this happened, we had a cold spell the next day. I thought I would freeze. Luckily Mom and Pop got me a sweater. It’s great - the orange color suits me and signals invaders to beware. I especially like the added authority it gives me with the patch on my shoulder that assigns me to “Squirrel Patrol.” O course, I don’t chase the squirrels. They run up the tree and it’s foolish to bark at them from the ground. Besides, I rather like to watch their antics.

I helped Mom in the garden and flower beds all summer, but now it’s cool and she doesn’t go outside so much. So I don’t either. When I get bored, I made a fuss and she lets me out on the leash unless I find the right moment to slip from her grasp. What fun! I roam around the neighborhood and meet all kinds of new friends. When I get tired, I go home. Usually, there’s no punishment and I can get a drink and eat something before taking a nap without too much fuss.

When Mom and Pop leave for an evening or a shopping trip, I’m given full authority inside the house. I also get to take a much-needed nap on the couch. I’m alert, though, the least sound gets my attention.

A couple of time I’ve gone to the pet boarder. They love me there, naturally, and I get a lot of attention. After a day or so, it’s boring, no squirrels to catch or cats to chase. I hear Pop’s voice as soon as he walks into the office and I call an attendant to get out of my cage. I really perk up when I get near my digs. There’s no place like home.

That’s about all about me. If you want more information, I’ll be glad to oblige. It owe it to my public to keep them up to date on all my achievements. It’s good to teach the young pups how to behave. All in all, a dog’s life is pretty cushy.