I heard Mom say it’s Vally Times Day (almost).  She said something about love and feeling all mushy, she seemed sort of sappy.  I said to her straight up “Mom, don’t be mushy, start exercising again.  You will get rid of those thighs in no time.”  She didn’t laugh and it was almost like she didn’t hear me. Anyway, she’s making cards with hearts on them she is baking things, wrapping them and mailing off to “her little sweethearts” .  Like what am I, chopped liver?  And hey, I’d take chopped liver in celebration of Vally Times Day.

*what. ever !*

So look, while Mom is taking care of a holiday I’m dealing with a whole bunch of stuff.  There’s this new girl in town.  She’s cute and all but really, who wears a pink collar?  That’s her in the picture at the top, her name is Sophie.  She acts all innocent while she is nipping at my tail.  I stand my ground, pretend it doesn’t bother me and growl like a fool when necessary.  When Mom tries to coo and cuddle the little priss I wedge myself between them and nudge nudge nudge until they separate.  Works like a charm every time.  Mom has assured me that we only have to deal with this puppy for three months (an eternity…do you hear me?  an eternity!)

Then there was this guy.  His name is Rory.  He visited for two days.  This kid I can take.  He was rough.  He was aggressive.  He was all man.  Of course, because I like him, he’s gone.  What. Ever. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

So then we have old man dog ~ Walker.  He came as part and parcel of the Rory package.  Apparently these two bags of bones were being babysat.  HA!  Imagine being babysat at this guys age.

Walker iss okay if you don’t mind old man smell and really bad breath.  I’m talking dissolve your eyelashes bad breath.  No kidding.  Nice fella, but I’m glad he’s gone.  Mom says mt eyelashes will return in no time.

Then there’s this handsome fella.  Well yeah, it’s me.  Moth says it’s Vally Times Day and it’s all about love and every day she says “Lewis Mama Loves You” so I had to slip in a picture of me. Kindly note my beautiful smile.  I am smiling because Sophie will be a memory to me in three months, Rory has left the building and the old man dog is off to the dentist.

Happy Vally Times to you and yours.

Oh, it’s here.  The Holly-daze are here.  Mom brought me over to the neighbors while she made wreaths for the front door.  She’s shopping a lot.  She’s baking a lot.  She’s smiling a LOT!  Dad on the other hand keeps checking the credit card bills and complaining about Santa not doing his part.  Me, I just dream of spring. all. day. long.           *sigh*

For me, well,  I’m wishing I could run a bit more, but the snow is deep and the little ice balls that form between my toes annoy the heck out of me and last week my shins were all scraped from breaking through the crusty layer on the snow.  I lay next to Mom (where ever she is) and vision myself running on the grass.  Since Mom talks a bunch about Loll of Attraction I suppose I’m doing the right thing ‘cuz it isn’t a lot of work.

Anyway~ Dad suggested I get off my rump and write a blog post wishing every one a Happy Holly Daze.  Jingle Bells, ho ho ho and all of that. So there, it’s done.  I’m going back to visioning spring.

It’s going to be a LONG COLD WINTER for me and Mom.

P.S.  My book is coming along just fine.  Bet you can’t wait to hear about Clark and how I booted his red butt out of my life (and Dad’s and Mom’s).  Don’t judge me too harshly, you have no idea what it was like living with that little wuss.  If you think I should have Mom help me put some of the first chapters here on the blog, leave a comment and I’ll start begging her for help.

I’ve started writing my memoirs. It was time.  My mother is always showing off her books and I”m so SICK. AND. TIRED. of it being all about her.  I love her and all and she’s beautiful and all but enough already. Like the country song goes:  “I want to talk about me.”

I bet you didn’t know I was once a furry little toddler who didn’t know where I was supposed to pee.  (Who knew that’s what the classified ads are for??)  I also bet you didn’t know that I used to have a brother named Clark.  Yes.  Laugh now.  Lewis and Clark.  Yes.  Like the two famous old men.  Yes.  Lewis and Clark.  Perhaps you just noticed that I don’t talk about Clark much.  Truth be told I didn’t really care for him.  Brother or no brother ,I thrashed him a time or two and Dad shipped him off to live some place in the country where the “grass would be greener” for old Clarky-boy.  To be blunt, Clark was a wuss.  Let’s leave it at that.

Anyway, I just wanted you to know that I have started the process.   In the picture above you can see that I’m using the masking tape to put up a vision board with pictures of me as a best selling author.   Mom does this all the time.  She calls is Law of Attraction.  Whatever.  I just think I look good in photographs and I want to see pictures of me.

You’re going to love hearing about my birth, my first impression of Dad,  the truth behind the “dropping of the ball” and all kinds of other stories I haven’t shared yet.  Feel free to ask questions about my life and I’ll answer them here or in the book or in both locations.

Anyway, my vest is on and I’m ready for action.  You won’t catch me tip-toeing through the woods like the Maine whitetail deer but you can tell by these pictures that I do bound and leap like them deer do.

See?!  Ain’t I purty?

I have all the room to run and Dad and Mom are borrowing the Lady’s lazy tool for throwing.  It seems kind of slack to me but they think it’s cool, so I let them use it.  I’m even helping them out by dropping the tennis ball when I see Mom raise her arm with the lazy tool in it.

Mom and Dad can’t help it if they’re lazy. It’s who they are.  It’s not like they are a reflection of me, right?  On the other hand, I think I did see a reflection of me.  I got to this new house (no more Twinkie cat) and I go running up the entry way stairs with my Power Tail wagging, I immediately notice that The Lady has bought me oodles of chewy, hairy toys.  I’m thinking to myself “YIPPEE, I live with a Goddess!”

No sooner than I rip one of these pretty little things off the bench and go sliding around the tile floor when …..EEEEEKKKKKK…..there is ME sitting there ten years from now AND, I’m a girl!!!!  When I finally collected myself I took off running around again and DOUBLE EEEKKKKKKK….another me 12 years from now!  And oh man, do I look tired.

Shawn and Sadie aka Old Man Dog and Old Lady Dog

Well, don’t you think that set me back a bit, let me tell you something … it did. I heard Dad snicker at me and Mom laughed right out loud.  I looked at them and said “HEY~ I have feelings, too.” Humans are so mean sometimes.

Now I’m stuck here at this house with an Old Lady Dog and her brother Old Man Dog.  Whatever.  I don’t even pay them any attention.  I do, however, whack them in the face with my Power Tail just to let them know who’s boss.  AND, I had a talk with them, my Mom is MY MOM, not theirs!! They are not to snuggle with her, no sniffing, no nudging, no begging for pats. NOTHING.  She’s my Mom. (They can have Dad.)

This is not going to be easy. Maybe I’ll take up hunting.

More soon.

Mom went away AGAIN.

Yeah, like, what the heck is Mom doing going away again??  She left me here with Dad and Twinkie and the lady downstairs.  Look, they’re all okay but they are definitely not like Mom.  Dad is all screaming at the TV and saying something about BIG POPPI and Mister Papelbon not doing something right.  Dad went off about the Stinkin’ Yanks.  I’m guessing he was grouchy cuz Mom wasn’t around, but he just won’t admit it.  And Twinkie, well she just sits on top of the heater doing nothing all day long and the lady in the other room doesn’t always have her door open for me  (something about my tail wiping her stuff off the table).

So Mom was gone and I got B.O.R.E.D. and what’s a golden retriever to do when he’s bored?  I’ll tell you what it is I do when I’m bored,

I

LICK!

What do I lick?  I lick me!  My elbows are officially raw and I have managed to remove all the hair from my haunches.  And you know what, it makes me thirsty.

So I drink.  I lick and then I drink and then I lick some more.  Why not?  I’m not getting the loving I’m used to when Mom is here, and I’m not getting on the counters like I used to, I stopped using the neighbors yard as a toilet, I no longer bark like a fool when a car approaches the driveway I deserve a little something good. Licking is good.

Anyway~  Mom came home, and I jumped for joy when I first saw her and then I promptly stretched out in front of her to show her what a good job I’d done removing all the hair from my underbelly.  She must have been pleased because her eyes got really huge (I thought they were tennis balls for a minute) an then she turned around and walked away.

She’s shaking her head and saying something about addiction.  He he.  Okay Mom, yeah, I’m addicted to licking myself.  I can quit when I want, if I want.  I am not addicted to licking it’s just a habit.

Maybe a little hypnosis is in order.  We’ll see.

Mom didn’t know I was listening but I heard her say she’s going back to Sin City.  (As if there isn’t enough sin right here to keep her happy, she needs to leave the state??) I’ve been real sad knowing she’s leaving Kennebunkport for TEN days.  I’m so glad I can at least blog my worries away.  Well, blog and nap.  And yeah, chase Twinkie and blog and nap.  Maybe I’ll nudge Dad’s elbow and blog and nap.

Mom says to in order to really get her children’s book writing out to the world there is only ONE WAY and that’s Vegas.  I didn’t know that this sign pointed to Vegas.  I thought it was a message from the gang leader Moehler telling me where to go. Brrrr.  That guy gives me the chills.

So now I know this sign points to Vegas.  When Mom is gone and I take Dad for our walk at least we will know which way she went.  She went ONE WAY.  *sigh*

This picture is me and Dad being sad.  I’m holding him so he doesn’t shake too hard when he cries. No worries though because pretty soon he’ll be screaming his head off at the Red Sox and telling the umpires where to go (ONE WAY, remember?!)  I’ll stare at him and allow him to rub my fur until he feels better.

When I hear that Mom is on her way home I am going to run down the road to meet her.

I could get distracted.

But eventually I’ll be smiling at Mom and nudging her elbow until she screams at me.

And all will be well again.

*P.S.  If I don’t blog for awhile it’s because Mom locked me out of it again.  Sometimes when she’s going to be gone for awhile she does that to me.

I am feeling so left out.  All this fuss about pedigrees and non pedigrees.  Who cares?! My Dad says I have a pedigree and it doesn’t make me any smarter, so see, who needs it?

Anyway, I been thinking that I should probably go meet Bo.  I mean, if I’m going to compete for attention I’d better know what I’m up against, right? So this morning I nudged Mom’s elbow  to let her know I needed to talk dog-to-woman and snout to nose.  After she was done freaking out about the coffee on her new blouse I told her about my plans for a trip to DC.

Mom rolled her eyes and laughed.  I think she was thinking of how cute I am. (Maybe, right?)

Maybe she didn’t understand that I need to see what’s so special about this Bo dog.  I put my paw on her thigh and I scraped down it….reeeaallll haard. I needed her to know my dream of going to see Bo Obama.  This time she stood up and demanded that I take myself to the other room, she was bleeding a little.  (oops)

Now, I may be a punk, but I do pay attention.  Mom has talked before about vision boards.  I heard her say that when you cut out pictures of what you want and look at it a lot it helps bring your dreams into your reality.  I don’t know if it works and I don’t really know what the word reality means, but it’s worth a try.  Today I surfed the internet and found this lady who is teaching how to make a vision board.  I signed myself up for  Kat’s Vision Twist. I’m going to bring pictures of Bo and pictures of me and pictures of a yacht, pictures of my Snoopy doll and pictures of Lassie and some tennis balls and a big picture of Mom.  Yeah, I’m going to bring  LOTS pictures of  Mom.  I love my Mom.  She’s beautiful.

Moms legs are done bleeding now.  She doesn’t seem to mind changing clothes and throwing away her new shirt.  I just need her to be a better listener.  Maybe I’ll talk about it with Bo when I get to DC because Mama Obama doesn’t seem to have the same “issues” as my Mom, but she’s also not as beautiful.  I suppose a golden dog can’t have both.

Keep your paws crossed for me that my vision board gets me a trip to Washington DC.  In the meantime, I’ll just send Bo a postcard.

Why would I do that on the driveway right in a place where Mom would step in it with her new sandals?  Why would I?  I wouldn’t.  No, I love Mom.  She’s beautiful.  Even her feet are beautiful.

Ok.

It was an accident.  I didn’t mean to do it right there.  Accidents happen.

It

just

happened.

Sorry, Mom.

I love to play.  PUNKS love to play.  Did I mention I love to play??  It goes like this.  Mom throws the ball,  I go get it.  Mom throws the ball, I go get it.  Mom throws…well..you understand the concept.  Sometimes, just sometimes, I get  bored with that and I need a break.  I need privacy so I go lay in the bushes.

HE he heheheheheheh.

I can see Mom.

She’s looking for me.

HE HE HE.

She’s hollering my name all high pitched and whiny “LLLLEEEEEWWWWIS.”

‘Yeah, that’s my name don’t wear it out, Mom.”  ( I whisper that part because if she hears me say it I’m sure to be grounded).

Anyway, when I’ve had enough fun and sick of watching Mom scrounge around for me I stick my face out of the bushes.

PEEK - A - BOO!!

Pssssssst.

Yeah, YOU!

I haven’t written in a while because it’s just too hot.

I have been real busy panting, drooling and generally spending time being underfoot.  (Mom says I’m reeaally good at it, too)  And oh, yeah, it’s BAYCAYSHUN time.

Mom says its real important that everyone relax and take BAYCAYSHUN.  When she talks about this she always says stuff like “Paris” and Greece”.  I think Paris is the skinny blonde lady on the TV with the teeny tiny cat- like thing she calls a dog, and grease is grease and, well, I like bacon grease, but doesn’t everyone?  Honestly, I don’t know what Miss Paris and Bacon Grease has to do with relaxing.  I relax plenty, for example:

I nap under the bed.

And I nap on the wood floors so that I blend in.  You can’t even see me, can you?  That’s right, you can’t.

These are just two examples of relaxing and BAYCAYSHUN and right now all this talk about rest is making me fidgety, so folks, I’m going to have a nap.