Mama is too bizzy

Now dat da rane has stopped, mama is too bizzy to pway wif us. It's mo, mo, mo an' weed an' rake. Den she wunders why I killed my fwoggy dat went ribbit ribbit. Awl she did wuz pick up da peeses an' tell me "nawty boy!" Den she ran owt da dore agan an' we cud heer da liddle traktor cuttin' grass agan. Whut else cud I do to get her attenshun? Uh-oh. Looks like weer gettin' attenshun today. NO not nale trimmin' an' eer washin'!! NO NO NO NOT A BATH!!! Hafta tawk later...gotta run!

Frendly Sutherners

Mama jus' came in frum mowin' da gwass an' weedin' da gardens wen da fone went ding-ding-ding! She did not recugnize da number, but pikked it up finkin' it cud be wun ov her bassety fwends. She tawked an' tawked an' laffed an' laffed an' smiled a hole bunch. Gess whut? Rong number!! Dat pawson wuz callin' Loozeeyanna an' dey wuz reelly reelly frendly! Mama sed da world wud be a better pwace if mor peeples were like dat. It duz not hurt to smile an' be waggytailed. I am lernin' dat, too. Sumtimes yu mite even get tweets! If yu ar fwendly, dat iz. And pets.
So dont wurry, dont be cwabby, smile an' be frendly an' yu will feel better an' so wiww da world...reelly!

My Oshun City Waddle Pitchers

Arfur heer. I am soooo tired. Better let Hugo do da tellin...wif my help, of corse...but he can spell bedder dan me. zzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Hugo here . Whelp we made it home safe and sound in spite of a squeak and a cracked tire. Humans don't think we hounds notice things like that, but we want to get home, too. At the Olympics we arrived late as usual, but got to see so many dear friends of mama's and papa's - lots of hugging and stuff. Can't understand why they don't just sniff like us cuz it is so much easier. Vito was just nuts to meet and greet every creature he could, causing poor papa to be constantly tangled in our leashes. I am old. I am slow. But I do remember having the energy these youngsters have. So I just endure their eager pulls as they drag me around (which is why I tangle Dad up so he can't move and they can't go hehehe). The slaves could not leave us for the pawction, so we all went to Mickey D's, then ice cream, then hung around the campground - wait - Vito wants to say that we each got a plain burger with nuthing on it - very good - and we did not even try to steal the slaves' food tho we ate in the truck. We didn't get our own pawty this year, but for me it was just as well - I'm too old for that stuff. It was a much better time camping this year (except when the drunk man fell on Arfur and scared everyone to death and we all ate his spilled ice cubes that tasted strange...sorta smoky and strong smelling). We really did catch on during the second day in Ocean City. Even tho we did not do the pawrade (tho we went to the start of it), we still walked on the boardwalk and watched it and went to a picnic. As long as mama took me, the others trotted very well together. But get us in a crowd...trubble. Vito just can't resist any female of any species. Mama made a lot of clicks with her little black thing, though I must say that in a crowd of bassets and people you get a lot of pictures of people's bottoms and bending over in every direction. Some little people, uh, childrun gave us lots of treats which gave poor Arfur a story for going home. And when the slaves went to the usual place after the waddle where we smell food, we slept the whole time they were gone. They came back all happy and talked all the way back about how nice to visit old friends. Mama was upset that a cupple times she met friends she really wanted to talk to and then just never found them again at both the picnic and the waddle. After we went back to the campground, we walked around and met peeple we had met other times we were there. When we got back to the little house on wheels we slept the whole night...and late in the morning...unlike the first night, where we made mama take us out all through the night in the rain. We got a long tour of the campground before we left for home and left a row of blue bags to go in the trash. From the time we got on the road, Arfur cried. He cried and whined all the way up the parkway and mama kept saying how it wasn't like him something must be wrong. Checked the leash and collar...all ok. His cries got more and more urgent, but with the little house on wheels behind us, we could not stop right away. We finally found a stop and mama took Arfur walking first. He waited until they found grass (not nearby either) and then...soupy poopies. Poor Arfur was just a mess. Mama went and got him medicine and he would not take it. She finally sneaked it into him, but he was just aching. He was fine for the rest of the trip, tho, and was just so happy to get home in his own yard, his own bed. Me, I don't care where I sleep as long as they let me alone. Which doesn't happen at Ocean City, so home is nice. Vito...he wants to go go go wherever he is...however he has been sleeping since we got home except to eat. He just loved the waddle. Mama and papa were so happy to see their dear friends, so it makes us happy too. Mama says it is just too long between seeing many of them. Once a year is not enuff. So I gess the Trout Pawrade is the next stop for the LHOW and us.

Just ponderin'

Iz a hillbilly bone tasty like a soop bone or sharp like a chikkie bone?

Who iz da redneck if dere iz deer antlerz over a doggy howse door - slave or hound?

Da mornin' after...

This mornin' mama wuz petting me and she sed "EEEEW! Arfur! Whut iz on yer hed?" Duh! Last nite Daddy gave me a emtee ice creem box. It tasted soooo gud! An' I smelled GRATE! My head wuz all crusty wif dried on ice creem. Too bad her noze is not like a basset. She cud not tell I smelled like mornin' drink ice creem. Hmmm...whut's dat called? Let me fink...Moon Doggie sumfin'...coff...COFFEE! Dats it!! Coffee. Now I gotta go find somethin' else to smell like cuz she washed it all off. Off to the yard I go...

Cud not sleep

Evry liddle sneeze is from big allergees,
Pollens in treez flote on every breeze,
Cloggin' my noze down to my toes
I'm suffring, suffring.

Den I start to teer and my eyes start to run
Allergik itchin' is reely no fun,
Blurrin' my eyes, makin' me sigh
I hate allergies, dat sneeze.

And I start to scratchin' in ways I never do.
Rollin' on my back then showting owt "KAACHOO!"

I wud use a tishoo but I got no fums,
Medisin helps but how can I get sum?
Here comes a sneeze, mama help pleez -
Allergik, dats me.

Allergik, dats me.

My furst time

Whelp, heer I am, blogging for da furst time. I am speechless at da moment. I gotta fink abowt dis a wile. Ok? I wanna tell abowt my book. It wuz much eezier to do the book than diss. But I will adj...er, uh...adjuss...I will get uzed to it. It is named ARFUR T. LEADBOTTOM SINGS and it has my pomes in it. It has lots of pitchers too frum menny years of waddles, pikniks, and my pawsonal colleckshun. Hmmm...I'll rite more later.