Hello! It’s me!!!!!!!

Usain Bolt is one of the greatest sprinters of all time. Maybe THE greatest. Watch him in lane 4, pups (click to the website if you care and cannot see the video below).

My goodness. That’s a lot of raw athleticism for your dollar, #amirite?

Today, I was granted the rare opportunity to emulate the fastest man on the planet. And your generous funding will enable countless pups to find good homes. That’s a winning combination!!

We arrived at Wiener Mania under blue skies and a forecasted high temperature of just 90 degrees. When I say “we”, I am of course talking about the 200+ doxies who sprinted to the finish line in today’s races.

I was in the 8th heat for juveniles (pups under a year-and-a-half). That gave me time to soak up the sights and sounds. I met this pup minutes after arriving … and I had to ask myself, “What In The Name Of All That Is Holy Is Going On Here?”

Then one of these guys accused me of not being a pure-breed doxie … suggesting that I was “crossed” with another breed in “Europe”. Oh, I was “cross” all right!

This pup told me that they were selling hot dogs for $2 at the concession stand and that my Grandpa was in line awaiting a nourishing delight.

Now back in the day, I was as athletic as the next pup. Do you remember this gem from more than a year ago? (visit the website if you cannot see the video via email).

Today, I launched a new chapter in my quest to climb Maslow’s Hierarchy of Athletic Prowess.

In some ways, this event was a lot like the Kentucky Derby – the outfits – the fashion – oh my. Heck, I wondered aloud what skeletons this one had in his closet?

I walked over to the paddock after the 6th heat. I was outfitted for the race!

To be honest, I should have carb-loaded this morning. Desperate for bonus energy, I searched for goodies.

Denied.

I wasn’t suffering from a Bog Spavin (those of you in the horse industry know what I’m talking about), so even without supplemental protein I felt ready to go, ready to break my maiden.

It was post time!

The crowd – buzzing with energy, awaited my placement at the gate.

Dad placed me into Gate #3.

Tension.

Heart pounding.

The crowd … feverish with anticipation.

AND THEY’RE OFF (visit the website if you cannot see the video)!!!

Yes, four of the six dogs took off.

One might say that I stumbled out of the gate, but that isn’t entirely true. Instead (as Jerry Seinfeld once said), I proclaimed … “I CHOOSE NOT TO RUN!”

That’s when Dad not-so-gently nudged my hind quarters out into the arena of dreams. With the lead pack already enjoying lunch at a nearby eatery, I chose to run (again, visit the website if you cannot see the video).

On a sunny day in mid-March, I ran ten meters with almost as much enthusiasm as Usain Bolt runs a hundred meters. Both Usain and I received the unrelenting admiration of a large audience, however. We both know exactly what it feels like to compete in the arena of dreams.

Unlike Usain Bolt, I needed assistance to cross the finish line. Dad eventually ran out onto the course … and we both sprinted across the finish line where Mom waited with video camera and unconditional approval.

Usain Bolt wins gold medals … many, many gold medals. My athletic endeavors resulted in a hard-earned participation ribbon.

One doesn’t need gold to be labeled a winner. Today, all pups were winners – thanks to your kindness!

Hello! It’s me.

That’s me … sitting there like a fool waiting for sponsors to help pups out at Wiener Mania tomorrow (click here for details). Your sponsorship accomplishes two things.

1. You help pups in need.
2. You give me incentive to do more than just sit there looking for crickets when they release the hounds at post time.

So I’m beggin’ ya … support a pup (click here for details). I ask for so little (aside from your undying loyalty to me and my endeavors).

Hello! It’s me.

These mild spring days bring a new threat to the forefront … crickets.

Please visit the website if you cannot see the video below.

I’m not sure how familiar you are with crickets. But if one hops in front of you (as this one did), it’s a sign of extreme good luck (click here), #amirite?

In my case, I was lucky enough to bang my right front paw on his sturdy exoskeleton a couple dozen times until I crushed his head, thorax and abdomen. His spiracles closed, dissuading breath. I carried the cricket around the yard in my mouth, showing off my prize to absolutely nobody. Finally, I consumed the critter – absorbing much-needed protein for my big race on Saturday.

Crickets – they’re not just for breakfast anymore.

Hello. It’s me!!

Pups … the dog days of summer have come early to the Phoenix area. Highs approached 90 degrees today. And with temperatures so darn hot, one has to look for moisture … one must HYDRATE, #amirite? So I don’t care if there’s salty sweat on the end of a quarter-inch nut driver or on a brake caliper, I’m gonna hydrate.

I call it mid-summer, others call it March 8. Either way, these balmy conditions require lots of fun with friends.

Then you get all sweaty and you require a bath. I’m not a fan of taking baths – I’ll be the judge of when my own odor overwhelms our household. But Dad is bigger and stronger than me, so I end up getting dunked in the soapy water-filled tub from time to time. I try to remove the gentle shampoo applied to my body via abrasive contact with Astroturf. If you can’t see the video below via email, please view the video on my site – it’s worth it.

Yup.

That’s quite a sight.

Yesterday we beat the heat by going to lunch. Dad enjoyed a pork tenderloin sammie – which means that I got a nibble too.

Some afternoons, Dad has to partake in happy hour – I just sit back and wait for the cheese to hit the floor.

When temperatures cool modestly, I like to play tennis.

I know, I’m very, VERY athletic.

Not only am I athletic, but I’m helpful. For instance, a few days ago I found Dad a tax accountant.

But eventually, the heat takes it out of you … it’s time to check out …

… and succumb to a hard-earned nap.

P.S.: To my friends up north … hang in there … 90 degree temps are just three or four months away.

Hello …. it’s ME!!

Lemon the cute bird knows how to pose like a pup, #amirite?

Lemon is just one of a veritable plethora of friends I’ve made over the past few weeks. I mean, life is like a bowl of kibble, you never know what you’re gonna get. Like this wee-little one.

I’m more than happy to be friends with tiny critters … if it weren’t for the fact that this tiny one encased herself in protective glass, I’d gently wedge the youngster into my mouth and take him/her to my backyard for an afternoon of pitch-and-catch.

Speaking of kibble, sometimes you just get so exhausted from building friendships that you fall asleep face first in a plastic sandwich bag of tasty bits.

Eventually a lack of oxygen jolts your central nervous system into action, and once again you are on the lookout for threats.

That’s a big dog!

Smaller dogs are more my speed.

And then, off in the distance, you notice a genuine threat.

I hear those crazy coyotes all the time … eagerly gorging themselves on an endless array of neighborhood rabbits. Don’t they realize that each time they eat a rabbit there is less rabbit poop to consume for pups like me?

So I’m not friends with coyotes, no way, no how. When I hear ’em off in the distance, I utter a loud bark that sounds something like “RIH” … just letting ’em know that the boss has an eye on them.

Look for too many coyotes and you wear out … again.

But eventually the alarm clock goes off, and it’s back to manning my post.

Did I mention that I when I’m not assessing threats I get to play cards with my dearest friends?

I know, I know, it’s a lot of work being me! But I have it good compared to those hard-working German pups.

That image is thanks to my Wisconsin friend Kate – and it makes logical sense when you stop and think about it.

Sunset is Chupacabra time. I like to make sure I have six-foot tall walls on all sides for added protection.

Sitting around the campfire, I fall asleep again – sleep provides an opportunity to use lucid dreaming to simulate my ongoing battle with real and perceived threats.

I dream about how I’d react if I saw THIS on my golf cart.

Yeesh! Those things make you want to crawl out of your skin. They’re not real, but in a world where you have to identify real and perceived threats, it doesn’t matter does it? A perceived threat represents and outstanding opportunity to increase what I like to call my “threat rep count” or “TRC”. Eventually I’ll respond to threats with muscle memory, seamlessly moving from one situation to another, vanquishing the opposition.

Then it’s on to a quick pickleball match.

Yes, I get it … you are supposed to paddle the ball back and forth on a regulation-sized court. But it’s more fun to BITE the ball, to try to crack it in half. The version of the game I prefer to play is great because you can’t lose – you are always aiming to set a personal best.

A life of friends, naps, and threats … it’s a real thrill ride! I anxiously await the next adventure, one right around the corner or up on the counter.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I’d like to simulate another series of threat-based reps via lucid dreams. The threats always end the same way – with me enjoying my many friends both here and far away.