Obama Wins

So Obama and McCain will go head-to-head in November. They are also level pegging in their responses to our communication about the condition of U.S. animal shelters. No reply from either!

Vacation Time

I've persuaded Meredith to take me on vacation. Seven days in the gloriously named Isle of Dogs heads my list of places to visit. What could be better? Meredith, on the other hand, says what's wrong with the Jersey shore, though she did say she will check out my doggy island on the internet.

Letter to Barack, Hilary, & John: A Week On

A week later and the candidates aren't exactly courting my vote. Hillary wrote back to say she was too busy to take questions from someone who resided outside of New York. She hoped I understood. Barack and John have yet to respond.

Gladstone has barracking me (geddit) for some blog time. He wants to run through some of the basics of dog language. After all, if he understands Australian; you should learn a little dog.

Letter to Barack, Hillary, & John

I sent the following email to the three presidential hopefuls. I'll give them a reasonable amount of time to respond - after all, there is the little matter of an election to worry about.

Dear ____,

More then 9 million animals are euthanized every year in the US. Deaths that could be avoided if politicians paid more attention to the desperate condition of so many American animal shelters and helped to fund their upkeep.

Millions of dollars are raised in taxes levied on sales of pet products. Animal lovers will vote for a candidate who they perceive will act in the best interests of abandoned animals.

What's your position on using tax dollars to directly fund the running of animal rescue shelters?

Politicians Never Talk About Dogs

I haven't had time to answer Gladstone's witterings recently because I've been closely watching the presidential election contest and wondering why politicians never talk about dogs. Why is that? Because they don't have a vote? Dogs are still constituents though, and deserve their barks to be heard.

More then 9 million animals are euthanized every year in the US. Deaths that could be avoided if politicians paid more attention to the desperate condition of so many American animal shelters.

I'm going to write to the three candidates and ask them what they intend doing about it. I'll let you know the outcome.

Dog Language

I've been teaching Meredith dog language. It's a bit like sign language for the deaf, but has a lot fewer signs on account of us dogs don't have fingers. We have to utilize all of our limbs and organs to communicate with other dogs and you humans out there. My friend Jonathan, who owns the shelter that I called home for a while, has it down pat. That guy is of superior intelligence. Merdith, alas, athough she is a sweeheart, hasn't quite got it yet.

Another Meredith Rebuttal

I've had a tiring weekend at the shelter and don't really need a litany of complaints from a dog wearing wire-rimmed glasses, a dog-toothed vest, and a Trilby. Okay, that's not strictly a true statement. I had a lot of help from Photoshop. Gladstone hates that picture. It's now in a frame on my bedside table.

Gladstone's Memoirs - A Progress Update

I've just got done with chapter three of my memoirs. Meredith complained that it's all about me. I explained that's why they are called MY memoirs. Sometimes you have to bark slowly when communicating with Meredith.

I bought voice translation software from ebay last week. The results were less than optimal. There wasn't a Bark option for starters. This is one reason why Meredith is in my employ. Believe me, if I had a choice.

Last night, over a plate of Winalot biscuits, I proof-read Merdith's transcription of chapter two and found several dangling participles. I know for certain that she's rearranged my sentence structure. When I pulled her up on it, she told me I was crazy. I doubt that the woman even knows what a dangling participle is, and this is a person who claims a B.A. in Literature!

Show Dog

A reader asked recently if Gladstone is a show dog. Gladstone doesn't 'show'. He's not really show material. He has an aversion to baths for one thing.

My Fine Physique

Some of you have been asking for some personal details. I stand 21 inches at the shoulder and weigh in at around 50 lbs. I weighed considerably less when I was left alone in that house all that time. I was born with a bobbed tail; it doesn't stop me wagging my hiney and pretending I've got a long swishy fly swatter. Meredith and I both have hazel eyes and brownish hair, although I have a coat of many hues, . We could be siblings - if she wasn't a human.

Sunday in the Park

I took Meredith for a run around the bark park today. While Meredith tossed a rubber ball aimlessly around the enclosure, I spent the time sitting under a tree thinking about the story I plan to write about what happened after my first human left me alone in the house and never came back.

A Rebuttal

My name is Meredith Soames, and I have not, I repeat not, been hired as a secretary by that dog! That dog watches too much TV. We are companions and share the same living space. I am merely acting as a documentor of his life, because Gladstone has made a large impact on mine.

Orphans - A Dog's Tail!

Good Morning Humans,

My name is Gladstone, although a lot of humans don't seem to understand this, no matter how much I tell them. "Stop barking," they say, and then go on to address me as "Hey Mutt", "Big Ears", and most recently, "HeadButt". Boy, are they stupid or what? It's Gladstone, everyone.

I'm an Australian Shepherd, commonly known as an Aussie. I'm not a sheep herder, I'm a dog. But you probably worked that out, what with the barking reference. Unless you thought I had a croaky throat. That would mean you also missed the mutt reference. If you did, you might want to consider going back to bed as it doesn't appear that today is going too well for you. Your mind is elsewhere. If you have to cross busy traffic or operate heavy machinery, you might just want to reconsider your options; perhaps rearrange your appointments and keep a low profile. Lying under the kitchen table with snout between paws my preferred method. If you don't have a wet snout or stubby paws you'll have to improvise.

Fimally a word about those stubby paws. I found that typing with pads instead of fingers is rife with difficulties. One time I managed to hammer seven letters at once, and I can never hold down the Shift key with catching the Ctrl key as well. To overcome this little local difficulty I've hired a secretary, Meredith, to tell my story, as I saw it, and how others have told it to me.