Viktor, was a Polish Lowland Sheepdog who shared his views on life and had a following of loyal readers from around the world . He sadly left all of us us way too soon. He left his PON brother, Frodo and his Berger Picard “brother”, Elroy to continue his “legacy.” We now welcome a new PON brother to our story- Wojtek- who in many ways, has the very same “bigger than life attitude” as Viktor. So we know Viktor’s spirit lives on, as does the spirit of Paxton, his Bernese Mountain Dog…
Yo. Blog people. Elroy here today for your reading pleasure. I’ve been pretty quiet lately, letting the mops do all this blog stuff. Personally, I’d rather stand on the deck, stare off into the woods, and boof. At the wind. At birds. And sometimes just because I can. For no particular reason.
So we had rain on Sunday which washed away most the snow. But not to worry – we had a DEEP freeze last night, so now we have ice where there were puddles. Great for sliding.
Otherwise, not much new. So I decided to check out the news of dogs around the world. I found three cool stories.
This first one is a story about a lost dog reuniting with his owner. Check out the video and just TRY not to cry:
And if ya think that story wasn’t a good enough reuniting story – check out this story about a dog who was lost for 4 months! Can you imagine what the mops would look like after 4 months in the wild? The shark can look like something that’s been clogging the hose of the vacuum after he’s been rolling around outside for 10 minutes. Imagine 4 months…
Now here’s a story about how dogs make sure the “show must go on.” Dogs at rock concerts. Who’d ever believe it! I bet I could do this. I mean my nose stays glued to ground most of the time, and I can decipher what animal has been by, and what they had for breakfast and when they had their last bath. Wonder if these dogs get to stay for the concert… I’m not sure I’m a Metallica kinda guy. More like James Taylor.
Howdy blogaroos! Squirmy here for your Sunday funnies. Did you know that today is National Static Electricity Day? Me either. Who thinks these things up?
Anyway – more on the shocking holiday in a minute.
So. On Friday we had a snow day. So no class. It started out as a rainy day and eventually turned to snow, then a bit more rain and then snow overnight. As a result of the lousy weather, the Warden did something she rarely does – she binge watched some TV show on Petflix. Wait. There were no animals in the show. Oh – the Boss said it’s Netflix. No wonder we were bored. Anyway, the show was some kind of murder mystery thing. Initially, she attempted to watch it in the rec room with all of us. Unfortunately, my continual attempts to steal pillows from the sofa, lick the Boss’s head, wrestle with the Coyote and jump on and off the sofa resulted in all of us going upstairs- and the Warden sequestered herself in the DFZ and watched the series on her iPad. We asked to go out about 138 times- just to make sure she was still alive on the sofa. After supper she proclaimed that she just had two more episodes to watch. It was getting to the good parts. You know the scene- when the main character goes down into a dark tunnel with a little flashlight and the spooky music is playing in the background. And the person watching is sitting on the edge of their seat because they know something will happen, but they don’t know when. And they’re kinda holding their breath…And it was exactly at that very point that yours truly let out one sudden big BOOF. Well. I think the Warden jumped two feet off the sofa. She just looked at me. I smiled.
So yesterday, I think in an attempt to pay me back, she tried to get a photo of yours truly with static hair – for the “holiday.” But she had no balloons. Which would have made the process so much easier. She tried freshly dried towels and a blanket – and while they offered a a few shocks, my hair didn’t really cooperate. Plus I was not a willing static experiment participant. I was rolling in the blanket. Tugging the towels. Basically discharging all the static. The photo you see is her best attempt. Not so great. Not much different from my normal bed head.
BUT – we did find a video to celebrate this auspicious occasion. It’s pretty funny.
Howdy blogaroos! Squirmy the snowman Wormy here today on what is supposed to be a REAL winter storm day. But I’m not so sure I always believe those weather people. We’re supposed to get snow and wind, but also maybe rain. Anyway, I have my regular class booked for today- but who knows if we’ll be going, if the weather is really bad. Hey maybe we could ZOOM the teacher! On second thought, that would be pretty crazy. The other two guys would have to be sequestered, and we KNOW how much the Boss likes that. Not.
Speaking of the Boss, he and I had major brush-a-thons the past few days. While Sue and Keith were here, the Warden used harnesses when we went out on our morning pack runs. We tend to pull slightly less when wearing a harness for some reason, and she didn’t want our company being pulled down the road. BUT – there is a BIG problem with PONs and harnesses. Fuzzikies. That’s the tangly hair that forms in uncomfortable spots on your body – and they are the precursors to mats. Well. After a week of harness-wearing (just while on walks), the Boss and I were full of fuzzikies. The Coyote has this coarse kinda steel wool coat, so he doesn’t really get bad fuzzikies. Lucky him. I had to undergo 2 hours of brushing and the Boss endured 1.5 hours. It was a fuzziky frenzy. It took place over two days. The Warden couldn’t suffer through it all at once.
What else is new? Oh. Hey. I forgot this old bit of news. Seems there’s a new DOTUS. Yup- the White House has a new canine resident – a purebred German Shepherd puppy by the name of Commander. He’s pretty cute – but really, his name doesn’t follow the one or two syllable rule. Three syllables are too many. Plus if they shorten it to Come, they’ll be saying “Come Come.” Sounds redundant. And Commie isn’t likely politically correct. Anyway, he’s a cute dude.
As you may recall, two other dogs started off in the White House last year. There was Champ, who sadly went to the Rainbow Bridge because he was an old fella and his job was done. And the other guy was Major – the White House’s first rescue. He’s now living “elsewhere” after a couple of “incidents” where he “nibbled” at some White House staff. Seems he wasn’t suited to living in a big busy house with lots of people. He must have had “issues” if they couldn’t train him there. I mean ya think they would maybe have access to the best trainers out there. Anyway, he’s “happily” living elsewhere.
Well, time to get out before the snow gets too deep and I can’t walk because of the snowballs in my private areas. Ten bucks says the Boss poops 20’ from the front door. The Coyote? He’ll just stand and stare at the flakes as they’re coming down. Like he’s counting them.
Howdy blogaroos. Squirmy here. Well the party is over. No more free range pre-breakfast pack runs. Our guests have left. They tried to sneak out super early yesterday morning but we were already up and knew the celebration was over when we spotted the suitcases. When we went out to do our morning “business” the Warden announced “one at a time.” Back to reality.
We really enjoyed having them AND those morning runs. Our last one was particularly enjoyable as we were ALL free. And the ground was hard and frozen. Which means the Boss didn’t have to walk the death march. The Coyote and I wore bells – but, of course the good dog was bell-free. In typical independent Coyote-style, the Picard frequently stayed at the farthest range possible. He also made attempts to drink from every mud puddle he comes across. Which drives the Warden NUTS. He has a perfectly full clean water bowl at home – but it seems he likes the taste of dirt. Go figure.
So our guests made it back home and met with some snow. Better them than us. Mind you, I hear we may get some on Friday. Followed by rain on Monday…
So what’s new in the world of dog news? Oh yes- the AKC has just added two new breeds to their roster. One is the Russian toy and the other is the mudi (pronounced like the cranky emotion and not something that is dirt covered). The Russian toy is little. I guess that’s why he is a toy. They came from English terriers and were supposed to be fans of Russian elites back in the 18th century. They’re supposed to be spunky. And lively and they weigh no more than 6.5 lbs. I eat more than that in a day. Or I’d like to.
The mudi comes from Hungary and they are shaggy sheepdogs. But they don’t look like PONs. They have prick ears. Kinda like Picard ears but not really. Google ‘em. Here’s the thing. You should never say “oh that breed looks like this breed.” Because oooo-eee, people who own that breed are pretty quick to point out the differences. Humans are pretty protective of their breeds. And how they look. When the Warden got her first Bernese (way before they were as popular as they are today) people would ask if he was a Saint Bernard. If he wasn’t behaving, she said “yes.” Sometimes I’m a mini Old English Sheepdog….
The article I read said the Mudi or Mudik if you have more than one, can herd sheep, hunt boar and snag rats. I’d like to try the sheep part, and I do chase bunnies and squirrels ( but I never catch them) , but skip the boar part. Sounds dangerous. Go Mudi.
Well, time to get ready for my solo stroll. Gonna be pretty quiet without three people shouting at three dogs.
Joyful New Year salutations blog readers. It is Frodo here today for your reading pleasure. Allow me to share the latest mundane news from our happy abode.
Our wonderful guests will be with us for one more day. It has been very enjoyable sharing their company and their additional hands which allow all of us canines to do our morning constitutional together. That being said, yours truly has gone rather begrudgingly on our walks the last two mornings. Why you might ask? The weather my friends. The warm, rainy, foggy, moist weather which has contributed to two things I abhor. Actually, make that three things: puddles, wet grass and mud. The first foggy morning I gingerly approached the driveway, knowing that all roads were going to lead to the grubby trail and golf course. But I went – just to show I am a good sport. Mind you, I was on a leash so did not exactly have a great deal of control over the journey. But the second day, when the fog was so thick one could barely see who was at the end of the leash, I moved as if I was in a funeral procession. I was so slow that Her Highness instructed my captor to let me off leash. I trudged along at a distance behind everyone, surveying the best route to avoid puddles or particularly soggy grass. My pace increased noticeably, and in fact, I was at the head of the cavalcade when I knew we were heading for home. I was almost running.
Meanwhile, the Imp continues to delight, or perhaps a better word is flabbergast our guests. Susan coined a new name for him yesterday- Ninja. It suits him. His rather fast, unpredictable movements are quite the thing to observe. For example, let’s say he has stolen something that does not belong to him – like a mitten. Now his typical move is simply to duck and run away. But should he be cornered, he will drop and roll as one bends over to retrieve the stolen object from his clenched teeth. His quick roll allows him to avoid capture. That lad has quite the moves.
The FG or Coyote, has been allowed to run free several times on our morning walks. If the humans are hoping for a pleasant, worry-free walk, though, he remains tethered. I am the one who spends most time off leash. I believe it’s because I am the most reliable. That being said, one morning I did decide I had had enough of the “togetherness” walk, and I headed off on my own in the opposite direction on the trail. This was BEFORE the wet weather when the trail was frozen and solid – and contained no puddles or mud. My escape caused Keith to go running after me. Which frankly, was no hardship as he is a runner. One look at him coming toward me and I realized I had pushed the freedom walk a bit too much. I returned to the pack.
The Christmas explosion has been taken down and I must say, I’m just as happy to see all those elves gone. Call me a Grinch. I’m fine with that.
Well, it’s time for the last morning group walk. The forecast was calling for colder temperatures, but sunshine so it should be PERFECT conditions for a walk. No soggy grass and no snowballs stuck to my paws. I’m actually looking forward to our journey today.
May your journey today be sunny and non-soggy as well.
Howdy blogaroos!!! I haven’t been with you since last year!!! OK. The Boss just said that was corny. He said it’s an old joke. He should know.
So. Today I’m here to talk about revolutions. I make revolutions one way – and that’s called “spin.” I make revolutions the other way, and we call it “twist.” Wait. The Boss just said it’s RES-olutions. Not REV-olutions. That’s more difficult.
Apparently, two leggeds frequently make resolutions at the beginning of a New Year. And according to some internet sources, after 1 week, 75% of people are still successful in maintaining their resolution. But by six months, the success rate falls to 46%. Hello. If you humans were training us canines, and your success rate was less than 50-50, I THINK you would either step up our training or pick another goal. Seriously.
My resolutions for 2022? Less ricocheting off animate objects. Like humans and other canines. Walls are OK though. I mean a guy just can’t give up ricocheting completely. Setting a goal of no ricocheting is a bit much.
What else? Take the warden on more walks. She needs it.
Watch what I eat. I’ll watch whatever is in my bowl for a nanosecond, and THEN devour it.
Come when called. If there are extraordinary treats.
Listen to what the Warden is telling me to do. Whether I consistently do it, is a good resolution for next year. This year is a first step. I’ll actually listen.
Don’t chew on things like carpets or chairs. During months that don’t end in “y.” It’s a start.
Keep doing my comedic routines which make the Warden laugh – like rolling in the snow, on the side of a hill- so I roll all the way down.
Running 50 times around the dining room table. Just because.
Making funny faces when she wants to take serious photos. Like this one…
Easing up on my hairstyling routines on the Boss and the Coyote. It will give their hair a chance to grow back. Maybe.
I’m pretty excited about my training in 2022, and maybe competing a bit more. I’m still young, so there’s no rush – but I’m thinking this could be a fun year.
We also hope to continue writing about our adventures. We love hearing from you- and hope you’ll continue to give us feedback about how we are doing. We know there’s always room for improvement- that’s why two leggeds do resolutions!
Well, it’s almost time to do our inaugural walk for 2022. Have a wonderful, waggy New Year!
Hey blogaroos. Squirmy here with some pre-New Year’s Eve thoughts. But before I get to those, some updates on the joy of having company!
So here’s the thing. In our usual life, we typically go for walks with one or at most two of us at a time. BUT when one has company- with four hands and you add to that the Warden’s two hands – you get six hands and well, guess what?! All three of us can go for a walk at the SAME time!
So on Tuesday morning, after complete and utter chaos which included much barking, squeaking and jumping just to get our leashes on to get us out the door, we all headed out for a morning constitutional on the golf course. The ground was frozen, the wind was pretty much non- existent- AND the Warden had her pockets STUFFED with treats. The Boss and I were let FREE and we had a wonderful time. We pretty much responded to recall commands with 99% accuracy. Well the Boss did. I was on bunny patrol. Meanwhile, the Coyote who we all know is a flight risk, did his walk on leash. We all had a glorious time.
Yesterday morning, we awoke to find a few inches of snow blanketing the world. We all again headed out for our morning walk, but for some reason, the Warden was feeling frivolous. We got to the golf course, and she instructed her sister to “let him free.” Referring to the Coyote. She figured that IF he took off, there were two canines and three humans to track him down. Literally – because of the snow. And like a scene from one of those lion documentaries where the former zoo resident is released into the wild, the Coyote realized his freedom and promptly took off for the woods. With his sidekick (that would be me) in hot pursuit. Meanwhile, the reliable good dog, stuck with the humans every step of the way. When he wasn’t trying to remove balls of snow on his feet.
My Buddy and I disappeared for what seemed like an hour, but was more like 30 seconds, and then we continued on the walk – with the Coyote at a safe distance. He didn’t want to get too close to the humans for fear of imminent incarceration. Meanwhile, I did return from time to time just to pick up treats.
All in all though, it was a good walk and the humans were able to capture the Coyote at the end and bring him back home. The Boss and I were the first to meet up with the tub and a shower of warm water to release our snowballs. Which had formed in some rather uncomfortable places. It was a perfect morning!
And you know, that got me thinking about the New Year. We all know that the plague has made life…different. It has prevented things from happening and has changed lives in many ways. But I suppose, it has also made us appreciate the little things in life. Like a perfect morning walk. Or a sunny day. Or the love of a dog – who is oblivious to pandemics and is just as happy to spend more time with you.
We dogs wake up in the morning, happy to just be. Happy for a meal. Happy for a treat. Happy for a good belly rub or a butt scratch or an ear massage. Happy to just hang out with the ones we love. We take wonder in butterflies, in smelling something, in rolling in the snow or in simply lying in a sunny spot in the kitchen. Humans DO have complicated lives but sometimes I think they need to just be more dog-like. For even a few minutes a day.
So in the New Year, I wish for you the joy that we dogs feel most of the time. I wish you love, luck and laughter. 2022 is a new chapter in your life. You’re the author. Decide how the story will go.
OK. The boss actually wrote this last part . But he said I could use it. I hope I grow up to be wise like him! See you next year!
Howdy blogaroos! Squirmy no-bite Wormy here after Day One with COMPANY! Sue and Keith arrived after some false alarm COVID drama – BUT everybody is good and thankfully they were able to come.
As usual. I did my traditional ricochet greeting, and only tried to bite them a couple of times. Yesterday was a beautiful day, and even though we guys had been out for a couple of short walks, guess who got to go with our guests and the Warden on a HIKE? Yup. ME. Why me? Because they were trying to exhaust me. They walked 5 km, and I probably covered 6, because they let me loose for a brief period, and I covered way more ground running back and forth in the woods. I was on leash for MOST of the walk, just because the Warden didn’t know if we would come across any other hikers. Or dogs. Or wild animals. Like bunnies. I don’t know why she was worried – I was wearing my giant bell – so I would scare away most wild creatures. We did run into a few hikers and one lady said, “ well I could sure hear you coming.”
I got to see a dam and waterfall, and I didn’t drag the Warden into the water. Although I thought about it.
When we got home, the Warden fully expected that I would lie down after my exciting walk. Nope. I wanted to show that I have lots of energy -so I promptly came in the house and ran in circles around the dining room table. The other guys just looked at me.
I’m not sure what’s on the agenda for today – but I think I’ll start them off with my regular morning walk. That should be an excellent beginning to their day. Mind you, it’s not like they can sleep in with the regular morning serenade by the Boss. The Warden did leave ear plugs in their room…I don’t think they work well enough for that racket.
Howdy doody blogaroos! It’s Squirmy here on fighting day! Wait. The Boss said it’s BOXING day. Boxing, fighting… what’s the difference? I hear some humans DO get into fights for all the after Christmas sales. Although I think the after Christmas sales started like December 1st. It’s all so confusing. Humans are like that.
So we had a pretty quiet Christmas. With all the gathering limits lowered here in Nova Scotia because of the plague, the Warden couldn’t join a friend’s family for Christmas dinner – because she would have put them over the limit. But not to worry – they brought her a big plate of Christmas dinner- so she didn’t have to eat my training hot dogs. Thank goodness.
As usual, unlike the words of the popular Christmas carol which says “all is calm” – our household was anything but….
On Christmas Eve morning, the Warden took the Boss and I down to the lake for our morning constitutional. It was cold and windy – so we were protected by the woods. Yours truly was wearing his trusty bell to warn wildlife of my approach. Well, that’s what the Warden says. It’s REALLY so she can hear me when I bolt off in the woods- and she can’t see me. Anyway, we did our jaunt and when we returned, she told the Boss to wait outside. She was going to take him up to the road to get the paper. He’s trustworthy off leash. Me – I’m a wildcard. So she took me in the house , left him out and went to take my bell collar off. At which point, the Boss, who was waiting outside, pushed the unlatched door open to see what was taking so long. So you KNOW what comes next. Open door = escaped Picard.
The Warden watched as the world went into slow motion. She knew it was pointless to call his name. He rarely responds to it. I’m thinking we should change it.
Anyway, he bolted out the door and around the house to the trail that goes to the lake. The Boss and I just stared at the Warden. “GO GET HIM” she shouted. So off I ran, with the Boss trailing me. The Boss kept stopping to look at the Warden as if to say “do we REALLY have to find him?” The Warden caught a glimpse of his tail so she knew what direction he was headed. She was worried because without my bell collar, she didn’t know where I was either. She figured I was chasing the Coyote.
We all ran down to the lake, and then, because she does have moments of brilliance, the Warden took a cross trail to cut us off if we continued on the circular trail back to the house. BINGO. She met us coming up from the lake. She gingerly approached the Coyote – for fear of sending him off in another direction. And like a cowboy, she lassoed him with a leash. So his short parole was over. And the Local Lost Dog Network didn’t need to be notified.
On Christmas morning, we found that Santa left gifts for us under the tree. I guess he lowered or modified his definition of naughty – because yours truly got one too! The photo you see is before the rip fest began. Within seconds I had my gift unwrapped. The Boss unwrapped half of his and then stood and barked at the Warden because it wasn’t edible. It was these super tough indestructible hard rubber chew things. The Coyote didn’t want to bother opening his. Anyway, I started chewing and chewing. The Warden watched me like a hawk. I left mine and started chewing the Boss’s because he didn’t care. Then I went back to mine. The Warden was SO impressed! They were standing up to jaws!!! She thought we could do ads for the company. She could see the money for modeling fees rolling in. Yeah – well 10 minutes later, I chewed off the first piece of rubber. All toys were collected and will probably be donated to some rescue that takes care of dogs without teeth. Good thing she also bought a bulk supply of bully sticks. THAT I can have!!
So after these “quiet” days, we’re really revving up for tomorrow. Sue and Keith arrive!! The ricochet victims return!! So the Warden gets Christmas all over again! Well – kinda for the first time, since the initial go round was pretty low key. Thank GOODNESS she had us to keep her hopping!
Time to practice my ricochet skills with the Coyote. The Boss said that’s probably why he ran away. But he’s wrong – the Coyote has always done that! Even before I came along. It’s his whole “call of the wild” routine.
I still think we should rename him. He needs a more “hippy-like” name to match his personality. Like Journey. Or Freedom. Or Nature. Or Sparrow. I found these on a Google search for hippy names. Of course I did. They also listed Arrow. I like that. I think I’ll start calling him that. Mind you, the one in this house who is sharp as an arrow is the Boss…. So I’ll keep looking…
OK. Gotta go walk my human. Have a good fighting day.
Howdy blogaroos. Squirmy here for your holiday history lesson today. I know I don’t seem the academic type, but the Boss encouraged me to write this, so here we go. In 1832 (probably around the time the Warden was born), a guy by the name of Clement Moore had a poem published which was called several things- A Visit from Saint Nicholas or The Night Before Christmas. In 2016, a Polish Lowland Sheepdog by the name of Viktor, adapted Moore’s poem. Today, Viktor’s poem is bittersweet as he is now hanging out at the Rainbow Bridge – along with many of the dogs noted in this version. But we think his poem is deserving of a repeat, and you can substitute the name “Viktor” in the poem to any dog – like me – Wojtek! Check it out:
Twas the night before Christmas, when all through the house,
3 canines were waiting for something other than a mouse.
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
One had been chewed – so the toes were quite bare.
Two dogs were nestled all snug in their human’s bed,
While visions of dog treats danced in their heads;
And their human in her jammies, and Elroy in his crate,
Were feeling rather stuffed from all the cookies they ate.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
We raced to the door to see what was the matter.
Then away to the window we flew like a flash,
Barking and growling, a chair fell over with a crash.
The moon was shining on a pile of snow
Because it was dark out, the yellow parts didn’t show,
When, what to our wondering eyes should appear,
But a sleigh pulled by dogs, instead of reindeer,
With a jolly old driver and those dogs, so lively and quick,
We knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
As rapid as greyhounds – those happy dogs came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;
“Now, Meg, now Wookie! now Hally and Chimo!
On Romi! on Zan! on Murray and Stacio!
Hurry Bisia, hurry Miri, hurry Sophie and Fudgee!
Quickly Taz, quickly Jackson, quickly Sherlock and Oly!
Wait Moo, wait Jack, wait Rigger and Milo!
Stay Wiggles, stay Nara, stay Edy and Solo!
Down Hattie, down Gidget, down Doman, and Fred!
Sit Nanny, sit Conner, sit Watson and Ed!
Come Sophie, come Thor, come Gatsby, and Beau!
Roll over Gipsy, roll over Dorey, roll over Kiszka and Flo!
Jump Maddie, jump Liam, jump Ares, and Tip!
Speak Romeo, speak Dudley, speak Logan and Jip!
Over the broad jump! Over the wall!
Now dash away! Dash away! Dash away all!”
So up to the house-top the happy dogs flew,
With the sleigh full of Toys, and yummy biscuits too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The barking and squeaking and each little woof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fake fur, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all covered in dog hair and soot;
A bundle of Toys he had flung on his back,
He looked a bit frightening and Frodo wanted to attack.
But his eyes—how they twinkled! His dimples how merry!
He looked very friendly, he wasn’t so scary!
He looked at all 3 of us with a smile and held out a treat,
We happily took it – we’re always ready to eat!
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
We were all sitting patiently watching in awe,
Our tails wagged in unison as we each gave a paw.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose;
He jumped in his sleigh, after his dogs had a pee;
No one ran away – it was something to see.
And off into the sky the amazing dogs flew
Their driver trusted those canines – they knew what to do.
And I heard him exclaim as they drove out of sight, “Merry Christmas – behave Viktor – and to all a good-night.”
That was fun. Wish I had known Viktor. Although the Warden says that living with the two of us would have definitely put her over the edge. Whatever that means.
Anyway, on this Christmas Eve, I finally got my letter in to Santa. And my request? No clothes (that’s for sure!). Toys would be nice, but I do have lots. I see the Warden brought home some treats the other day, so I don’t NEED those. I have a comfy bed. A roof over my head. Two “brothers” to harasss, er, I mean play with. A human to train…. So what do I really want? Well it’s kinda simple. I wish that whoever is reading this can, for even a minute, feel the love that Christmas is all about. That despite the challenges they have encountered in 2021, they can reflect on their good moments and appreciate them – like a really special treat! It’s so easy for humans to focus on what they don’t have. They need to be more like us dogs – be happy for just being!
Merry Christmas dear readers. Sending you virtual licks and waggy tails from our house to yours. May you have a fabulous Baby Jesus Birthday Bash!
Viktorsviews. The Next Chapter. 