Well, since my parents are completely lame and do NOTHING worth writing about during the week, I have decided to take over the blog to defend dogs of all shapes and sizes. This is Buster, the family dog. The ONLY dog. You should remember me, because I'm pretty sure I've bitten most of you at some point or the other.

Anyway, I'm writing because today my mom received a document from a friend which is truly, truly insulting and demeaning to all dogs. Basically it said that the only emotion that dogs have is blind happiness and excitement and that cats are full of deep and conniving thoughts. When I read it (yes, people, I CAN read...just because I can't speak your language, doesn't mean I'm illiterate. I mean, how do you think I'm typing this blog?) I was filled with rage and horror at how misunderstood, emotionally, we dogs are.

First of all, I'm sure many of you remember my early years in Houston. Contrary to the claims of the insulting document, I was neither blindly happy nor was I excited. I was nervous and scared and insecure. Why do you think I bit so many people?

Besides being a tender little thing, I also was, and still am, scheming and conniving. Although my parents have wised up in recent years and discovered that just because I have short legs, it doesn't mean I can't get up onto table tops and eat sheet cakes, I still do my fair share of getting into things. For instance, the other day I ate half a bottle of pills that were meant to help me with my joint pain. It wasn't my fault that my parents left them somewhere I could reach them, and that they tasted like treats! I walked really well for a couple of days....and then I got diarreah. Green, viscous diarreah, which I made sure to desposit in every room in the house...especially my parents' bedroom. How's that for conniving?

I have to admit that I do get excited. When my parents get home from work I AM really happy to see them, BECAUSE I HAVE TO PEE! And yes, I look longingly at them, BECAUSE I'M HUNGRY! I mean, I only get to eat one cup of food a day now and it's DIET food. Please...the only thing that I really, truly get excited about is going on walks. It's an opportunity to show everyone on the street that I'm the boss of this household. I get to drag my parents around by a string, while stimultaneously barking at all the dogs in the neighborhood, who don't have the priviledge. AND my parents PICK UP MY POOP. How is that for power?

I also feel true love. My pink pig, "Piggy," is the object of all of my true affections. I roll on him and toss him around, I rub on him, and...well, you get the picture. Without Piggy, life would be much less amourous.

So, remember people. Just because cats have big eyes and clean themselves, doesn't mean that they are the superior, more emotional race. When cats have the power to control the social lives of people, have the ability to lead humans around by a string instead of just playing with one, and figure out that leaves blown by the wind are not living objects and that the lazer pointer is just light, then we'll talk about emotions and intelligence. Until then, I'll just eat their poop.