Hello! It’s me.

May I have that package please?

Thank you! kbye.

Hello! It’s me.

Let’s just say I was unable to catch the fly on the window.

You’ve probably heard about Pokemon Go, right? It’s the game that folks are playing where they are trying to find and capture Zubats, Pidgeys and Rattatas on their phones via augmented reality.

Lemme tell you something. Every day is like augmented reality in my world. I’m constantly assessing threats, praying not to run across the fabled chupacabra, or looking with a soft heart for my beloved Wendy.

I like to keep my own score.

• Each Perceived Threat = 10 Points.
• Each Human Who Pats My Head = 50 Points.
• Each Canine Interaction = 100 Points.
• Each Threat Correctly Identified = 200 Points.
• Each Time I Get To Eat Human Food = 250 Points.
• Each Interaction With A Service Dog = 500 Points.
• Face To Face Meeting With A Chupacabra = Game Over, Lose.
• Face To Face Meeting With Wendy = Game Over, Win.

Today, it was all about setting a Personal Best score. I approached my job with unfettered dedication (visit the website if you cannot see the video).

I earned a quick 200 points when I identified this threat as “Rusted Metal”.

It doesn’t always go like clockwork, however. This is a perceived threat, in a street no less.

Pylons, it turns out, are a perceived threat.

I simply marked this threat as “assessed”.

After tallying a bunch of ten pointers, I began to hit the jackpot. Although, to be fair, this beefy pup told me that I was coming in hot.

But that was a hundred points, and I don’t apologize for racking up big point totals.

There were plenty of fifty point opportunities as well.

But I was looking for a big point total. The process is exhausting.

But just when it looked like I was going home with a paltry 750 points, give or take, I sensed a huge opportunity.

I make my move!

And then … YAHTZEE!!!

That’s a five hundred point service dog, my friends. My personal best (1,150 points) was now within reach. All I had to do was convince Pops to toss me a tenderloin tip, and I was home free!

By 1:43pm in the afternoon, I tallied a new Personal Best … 1,300 Points!!!

This is where you offer me enthusiastic applause.

Thank you!

Did I find a chupacabra? No.

Did I find my beloved Wendy? Not even close.

But I can rest comfortably, knowing I had my best day ever.

Hello! It’s me.

Use the comments to tell our ever-growing audience what you think is going on in the image.

As I rub eye-goobers all over Dad’s office rug, I am reminded of yesterday. It was a Sunday, and that means it was a day of rest at Casa De Guion.

If this were a random Tuesday, I’d be disarming various threats (visit the website if you cannot see the video).

But on a Sunday? You put a lite rock song from Gloria Estefan on the bluetooth speaker … maybe “Can’t Stay Away From You“, and you soak up some sun, dreaming of a chance encounter with Wendy … or of a bowl of vanilla ice cream … or the opportunity to carry a small albeit highly arid twig in your mouth for the final 300 meters of a walk to the mailbox #needwater.

Hello. It’s me!

Saturday is the day when produce is brought to the attention of the public. I know, I know, you think you can just waltz down to the local Safeway and purchase greens at your convenience. You’d be wrong.

“Everybody” is out on a Saturday morning in summer. Personally, I like to walk the streets. It’s a cardio-friendly activity, and you never know who you’ll run into.

I think their names were Michael and Ella, or something like that. Doesn’t really matter. They were telling me that they had not seen a single chupacabra all morning. That’s what really matters. Ella mentioned that there was a bowl of fresh water just a block away. Insider tips are a big part of the Saturday morning stroll through town.

Sometimes, you get a discriminatory message that really get under your skin.

Yeah, thanks.

This frisky couple were having a bit of a spat … look at how the one pup blocks the presence of the other pup with an assertive left-paw maneuver.

I’m not one for the single paw gesture. I like to put both front paws on the face of a dog during a meet-and-greet. You’d be surprised how often that move goes sideways.

Even though I could not enter the market, I was told that lettuce, kale, and scooters were in abundance.

I asked my friend Jack how he was doing?

Jack told me to check out the huge Surf & Turf sale – he thought Dad might be willing to purchase some sockeye salmon for lunch.

Some pups stayed away from the market and from the Huge Sale – they just relaxed and did some canine watching.

Up and down the streets we strolled … streets where produce was sold. When we finally got home, I decided to end this poem.

Hello! It’s me!!

Dad says, “Hey buddy, there’s a fly over by the deck door!”

Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Boy (visit the website if you cannot see the video).

There are a handful of Best Practices we all need to follow when probing an insect.

First, make sure you approach in a crouching position.

“Low and Slow” is how I like to make my move. The last thing you want to tell a fly is “Hey, Dude, please sit there while I crush your exoskeleton with my paw” It’s been my experience that flies do not appreciate being told of their imminent demise – heck, I’ve seen them fly away when approached inappropriately, like they want to actually get away from you. That’s not fun for anybody. So be sure to sneak up on the insect.

Second, I like to tease the insect. I playfully bat the fly with my right front paw, maybe a half-dozen times. I do this to stun the winged warrior. Yes, occasionally this playful batting motion causes damage … crushed legs, wrecked wings, that kind of thing. That’s all part of the game, and they’ll always be another fly on the horizon, so don’t let it get you down if you cause damage. But the longer you prolong the inevitable, the more fun you get to have.

Third, move in to “retire” the insect. Once the insect has been subdued, forcefully crunch the insect with your teeth. By this time, you have been unable to protect the sensitive insect exoskeleton, severely damaging the frame during “playtime”, so put the little critter out of her misery. In fact, go ahead and eat the insect, if you so desire. Insects are a fantastic source of protein.

This is where “the feelz” kick in.

There’s a certain melancholy that kicks in once the victim descends into your fundus.

So my fourth and final Best Practice is this … CHEER UP! Don’t let the “termination” of the event get you down. Be vigilant. Always be vigilant. There may well be another insect hiding around the corner. And if there is, the insect may well provide the medicine that soothes the savage soul of a pup looking for something to do.

Hello. It’s me!

As you may already know, I am a finicky eater.

• I will not eat out of a bowl.
• I will not eat dog food #pedestrian.
• I only eat a tiny fraction of any dog treat, if I choose to eat it at all.
• In instances where I am starving, I make Dad’s life miserable instead of actually eating dog food out of a bowl.
• String Cheese is the go-to-choice, but I’m growing sick of that, too.

So for lunch, Dad decided to implement a test. What would I eat?

Would I eat SPAM (a registered trademark of the Spam Corporation, Austin, MN)?

Would I eat sunny-side up organic cage-free farm-fresh eggs?

Would I eat neither?

Would I eat both?

I know, the drama is killing you. And for those of you who are a slight bit lemonheaded and think that you’d just starve me and force me to eat my dog food out of a bowl, lemme tell you, I’d make your life miserable. Each of the past two mornings, Dad tried to do just that … and as a courteous way of thanking him, I threw up yellow/foamy bile on his new living room rug. I had body shakes prior to throwing up. Seriously. That’s how I get when I am starving to death and food is available and I refuse to eat it. This morning, body shakes once again. I was preparing to vomit all over the place for the third consecutive day when Dad got me to eat some ham. Then things were fine. Of course, you’re saying to yourself, “Well, Dash, you are a manipulative little critter, aren’t you?” I don’t view this as manipulation. I view this as adaptation. Both sides gently adapting to each other.

Where was I?

Oh, the quiz question.

I elected to eat THE EGGS!! I refused the SPAM (a registered trademark of the Spam Corporation, Austin, MN) after sampling a morsel or two. #notrealmeat

But the eggs!

#mmmmmmgoood

Hello! It’s me.

I thought you might want to see what it looks like when I am asked to cross the street. Dad says “Let’s Hustle” … and then I comply (if you cannot see the video, please visit the website to witness the magic).

I mean, what do you think of that? The raw athleticism? The unstable and unbalanced and uncentered camera images? The adoring masses cheering my progress. It’s a lot to digest!

Like I said, when Dad wants me to cross the street, he asks me to “Hustle”.

I like to do the hustle!!

Hello. It’s me!

I’m told that the sun is past peak now, so ima gonna soak up every single possible ray of light available to me … even if our summer turns out to be cool and clammy, as is now forecast. Or, I’ll soak up the rays until my skin is gently broasted by El Sol. Then, I retire to the comfy confines of our living room and await our next adventure.

Dad tells me that given our geographic proximity to The Border, we are blessed to celebrate the Independence of two nations.

“Whatevs pops”. As long as Dad cooks hot dogs on the grill and I get to sample a half-dozen morsels, I’ll go along with his Master plan. Peace, Canada!

According to my calculations, I’ve been alive for 0.3% of the history of this Great Country. This leaves me uniquely qualified to offer my opinions on this glorious Day. Here are a few random and utterly meaningless thoughts, shared in no particular order. Bask in my wisdom.

1. The Eagle may be the symbol of all that is great about our country, but the eagle that makes dinosaur-esque sounds outside my bedroom window at 4:45am needs to chill, dude.
2. The fact that Dad spilled an entire can of Diet Pepsi all over his pajamas and computer keyboard this morning has no bearing whatsoever on his ability to put kibble in the bowl each week. That being said, it does make one wonder how he gets through the day.
3. For some, sticks and stones may break their bones. But for me, sticks are meant to be carried down our driveway in my mouth and deposited next to our front door.
4. Tree sap on my neck, what the heck?

I’m dreaming of Making America Great Again … though from my point of view, it’s been pretty great so far. Though I do long for the mythical Wendy in my life …

Have a Happy July 4. Be safe!