Mor wadder - ugh

Papa cawled frum werk...tuk him a loooong time to get dere cuz da rode washed away an' a bridge went gone.  Now Vito an' me iz lukkin' fer Mama.   Vito sez, "Ware iz Mama?"  Arf sez, " Sheez nee deep inna wadder sumware, she ain't got no sun shinin' in her hare, an' her biggest werry iz da flud gonna reech up dere."  Yep, sheez singin' ta da Zac Bwown Band, too.  An' her udder biggest werry iz we gonna do owr doody owtside in da nasty wet ware WE ar nee deep!! 

We shall see.

Wanna share

It iz rainin' wunce mor.  sigh.  I HATE wet pawsies.  I wanna take my sunny nap.  Kin we share owr rainy day wif Texas?  Pleeez?  Mama's maters wiww not ebber hab enny froot cuz furst dey drownd, den dey gotted cold, now dey iz giitn' raned on agan.  Dey ar not happy pwants.  Doze widdle flowers on dem wiww neber be maters. Too sad.  An' how wiww we get owr mama offa da 'puter an' owt to go wawkies?  She duz not do brellers...nebber.  Corse, we don't do dem also.  sigh.  Bak to my mornin' nappy.  Need my rest cuz I gotta git ritin' later cuz we iz tryin' to get my nex' book dun soon...oops!  Wuz dat a serkrit?  hehehe gess not now.  We wiww see tho if I kin moti - er, uh, motiv...aw heck!  Get da lazy slave bizzy typin'!
Soon,
Arfur

Ketchin' Up

A hole bunch ov fings hav happinned sinse we tawked last time.  We bin baked, fludded, drownd, itchy, sad, happy, seen old frenz, habbed da 2 legger bizzit an' so much mor.  Whelp, dat ketches us up, rite?  hehehe...So let's see, we bin habbin a bare.  No, not da nekkid kind, a mama bare an' 2 widdle wuns.  Vito wiww  not go owt at nite wifowt Mama.  He iz such a chikkin!  I am not askeered.  Howebber, I do not wike my footsies wet...
Dis day, Papa went to da skin doktor.  Gud fing doggies don't hab dat!  We just get a skwirt ov Vetericyn!  But Papa, he gotted hiz finger froze!
 Back to da howndy nooz: Now we gots a fox, free bares, a skunky, da Pippicat, da gote, a hooter up in a twee, an' noyzy naybors.  THAT cuvvers owr reezins fer not goin' owt dat doggy dore in da dark.  So whut did Papa do?  He putted up a lite dat lites wen we step owtside.  No, it iz not fer us...it iz fer da woodpile so Mama duz not grab a critter wif da fire wud.  I gotsta go, but I am shur to be bak to morro cuz dis day Mama iz still moppin' an' tryin' to dry dat seller.  It iz a hole lot bedder, jus' stinky an' damp.  Hmmm....how menny cans ov Lysol duz it take to do a hole seller?