Deeper Thoughts: Am I Really Special?

After "he" confused Sponge Bob with Bubba Bob, we had a long talk the next day.  "He" explained how it was easy to mistake the two, given they are virtually indistinguishable.  I guess that is true, at least for "him."  I mean, given his limited sensory powers and all that.

But one thing about our discussion bothered me.  "He" pointed out that, to the casual observer, all the dogs I observe from my window perch (pictured above) act about the same.  They run around like maniacs, pee on everything that sticks out of the ground, and bark at anything they don't like.  Yet they were no doubt special to their significant others.

I guess that is true, but the whole conversation was, upon reflection, deeply disturbing.  I have to concede that when I go walkies or go to the park, I pretty much run around like a maniac, pee all over anything that sticks up above ground, and bark at things I don't like.  Does that mean I am not special?
I mean REALLY SPECIAL?  Like ME.

Incidentally, the picture above shows a typical example of the type.  Clearly not special nor me.  I did not even give him the benefit of a contemptuous growl.

"They" have always told me I am not like other dogs.  Apparently, in this respect at least, I am.  In what other ways might I resemble this species I have formerly held in such contempt?

I have got to tell you, dear reader, that this deep thinking is kind of a bummer.  I'm going to slow it down until spring arrives in earnest.  Maybe longer than that.  My head is still spinning.

But the sun is shining through the window now.  It is NAP TIME, thank God.

I am special.  I am PIP!!!

Deep Thoughts: Can You Tell the Difference?

Above is a photo of my beloved best toy-pal Bubba Bob, of all my many toys the best of all possible toys, alongside Sponge Bob, formerly the best of all possible toy pals.  Devoted readers of my ramblings may recall the many adventures Sponge Bob and I had together in my earliest youth. (Hint: Bubba is on the right).

Alas, one morning, I woke up and realized, blah, Sponge Bob, blah, blah, blah, not so much beloved, not so much an instant comfort.  What can I say but he was replaced by another of nearly identical appearance, taste, and smell, the ubiquitous Bubba Bob?

The point of all this, dear reader, is that last night, in the course of an extended playtime, I rediscovered Sponge Bob at the bottom of the Well of Toys.  "He" and I had a marvelous game of fetch with the old boy save for a single mischance.  In the excitement of the game, "he" referred to Sponge Bob as Bubba Bob, as in "Bring me the one they call Bubba Bob."

Well, I was aghast, nonplussed, stunned.  I stood there in amazement.  How could anyone make such an egregious error?  I must have looked completely dumbfounded from his reaction.  Of course, he quickly recognized his mistake and the game continued with satisfactory results.

On sober reflection this morning, between naps, I began to wonder, though.  The difference is so obvious to me.  To "him,"however - indeed to anyone else - they look the same.  The point is that I know the difference, isn't it?  And there is a big difference, isn't there?

I had to go out and bring Bubba back to bed.  He is still so cool.  Can there ever be another like him?

The Horror

OK, OK.  Maybe I'm a little sensitive, but I ask you, I ask you in all seriousness, how can I put up with this, this, BUG!!!!  That's right, I'm sitting in the living room minding my own business and don't I hear this faint buzzing or whatever.  Well, I knew right away what it was, a stupid lady bug beetle flitting along the ceiling.




I immediately did what was expected of me.  I growled and barked in an upwards direction and then hid in the hallway until He finally got off his butt, put down his wine glass, and chased the thing down.  I watched him throw it out the door onto the deck, but, of course, my evening was already ruined.

'Tis Himself

How has this adorable fellow escaped my notice for so long?  Last week, while rooting through my toy box, sure didn't I spy his comely face.

OK, he is part bird and part Santa Claus and he plays a song, something about pinching or squinching and babies and what-all.  Besides that, he is perfectly suited to throwing and chewing.

This morning, he even participated in the bed game.  More news and possible videos will surely follow.  This is so cool.

Needs a name.  Squinch-Bob?

My heart throb.

Ever since I was a tiny pup and I once spied an old timey tv show with Mr. Bubbles (that's what I call him)  I was hooked.  He is so cool I just started to dance all around the room.   Then when the bubbles started I almost fainted.  I tried to hit the screen to pop them but I could only get a few.  Sigh....don't see him as much as I used to .....wonder if I can find him on "the white box????"

Deep thoughts Concerning the Sun and Birds

I like the Sun.  The sun is good.  Really good.  I like to lie in the Sun.  Sometimes it gets too hot though.  Then I have to move to a shadier spot.  Usually I take a breather and watch the birds.  They are very hungry these days.  I don't blame them.  Come to think of it, I'm getting a little peckish myself.