May I Use the Bathroom in Peace?

Excercise = Pain

Mom's been on some crazy excercise kick lately and she's been forcing me to comply. I tried to tell her that I just wanna hang out in the dogrun on 120th with my peops' but she ain't hearin' me. Every morning for the past five days she's been draggin' me to Central Park for 80's style jog mania. When I get tired, she jogs in place and waits for me to get movin' again. She can't stop, won't stop eh eh eh eh...and I'm dyin' over here. My hind legs ache and I'm hungry all the time now. I'm getting all skinny and she still looks the same.

Benched

Last week I got taken down by a dark gray pit bull in the dog run. I was sniffing after this hot young golden lab and he wasn’t having it. I tried to tell him, “My brutha, let her be the one to choose.” The moment I barked out the end of that statement, he pounced. I fought back as best I could. I wiggled beneath him and slid out from under him only to be dragged back to where he wanted me to be and pummeled again by his monstrous paws and hind legs.

My mom jumped into the mix and grabbed him by the collar. He hopped up, snarled at her and lunged at the arm that she had tried to save me with. She backed away with a look of sheer terror on her face. I tried to make my move but the heavy brute hopped on top of me again. Mom dukes yelled over and over again, “No, no, no, no,” until the pit owner realized that we weren’t playing and told the bully to get off of me. He complied but not before he spit in my face, snarled at me one more time and whispered “That bitch is mine, son.”

I’ve been shook ever since. I’m scared of tryna’ roll with the big dogs now. Moms took me to the dog run yesterday and of course there were two more pits there. I just played my position, yo, and stuck to darting from bench to bench every time they got too close. Underneath benches, yo, that’s the safest place to be.

I'm Feelin' Ornery

I'm tired of being locked away all day. I want out! I wanna run through the ice slicked streets of Harlem with the wind fiercely nipping at my coat. There's a hot Malamute that walks my strip and I'm tryna' holler at her. You know I love my women thick and sturdy and I am in the mood for some good lovin'. Grrrrrrr, I haven't been to the dog run in days!

Today mom didn't get home until almost 4pm. She ran in with shopping bags, dropped them and ran to my cell. She woudn't open it until I sat. I shook my booty and wagged my tail and whined but she could't have cared less. When I sat, she gave me a yummy treat, said "good boy" and slowly opened the gate.

She looked a bit peculiar, yo. Preoccupied. She was there but not. She had a strange far away look in her eyes that I've been noticing a lot more lately. Anyhow, I had to let her know what's what. I run this show. This is my house. You take me out to pee and poop when I need to pee and poop damnit! You need to be here more often to entertain me. I'm bored and lonely. As I pulled her down the steps towards the wide open world and crisp winter breeze, I could tell that she was finally starting to understand me.

Live from Prison and Beyond

They confined me to my little prison in the kitchen again today. But this time they put my crate in with me. I have to admit that yesterday, I got so scared when they were gone that I peed next to my food. I never pee anywhere near my food. I weeped and wailed as much as I could without getting squirted with citronella. Finally, Daddy came home and let me out. He played with me and gave me lots of treats but took up my food and didn't lay down anymore food until dinner time.

When I am free, my wee wee pads are usually in a nice litte cul de sac behind the dining table by a large bookcase. When I am locked away, they are only a few feet away from me by the refrigerator. Ick! But today wasn't so bad, especially since I had my crate. Whenever I got really lonely, I just crawled in and played with my toys or slept. When moms came home from work she said hello...and then she got changed and took me to a new wine shop called The Winery between 116th & 117th Street on 8th Avenue. She didn't ignore my presence, though she kept her distance.

She's staring at me right now and drinking a Mead as I type away. She put a little on her finger and gave me a taste and I must admit, it's spectacular. It's bursting with rich flavor (honey) but is not sweet at all. Moms loves her dry wine. Too bad her pocketbook fell on my poop as she kneeled down to pick the crap up when we were walking back from the wine store today. And yeah, people saw her drop the bag in my poop. She can be really embarassing at times but I love her.

The Trainer

Something's amiss. Yesterday moms and pops had a woman over who had a strange accent. It was really hard to understand much of what she said but she smelled like honeydew had a huge fanny pack filled with treats. I fell in love with her. She was firm but kind and tender and I loved the way she said perfect. She said it as though she was purring like one of the alley cats on the block that I always chase under cars when mom dukes walks me. Everytime I sat when she told me to or stood or came to her she would say purrrrrrrrrrrrrfect. Whenever she rubbed my belly, I would throw my head back in ecstasy and allow my tongue to dangle lazily out of the corner of y mouth. I had to let her know that I had a really long tongue. She loved it and she rubbed me up some more and gave me more treats. I think they were made of liver and cheese but not the freeze dried crap that my parents get all the time. Nah, nah, this was the good stuff. It was as though she had gotten the goods from fairway and cut them up herself into perfect little delectable morsels for yours truly.

Anyhow, after she left, mom and dad started acting different. They weren't as affectionate towards me as usual. And today, moms locked me up in the kitchen again. She knows damn well I can't hop over that damn baby gate. She thought she was slick but I knew something was up. I knew. This morning she didn't pick me up and give me sloppy kisses on my ears. She just said "good morning" and "down" when I tried to pat her knees and do my "wake up it's Monday boom shakalaka" dance on my hind legs. I dropped to all fours in shock at her newfound level of coldness and felt my ears droop. I trotted into Dad's office and tried to sit on his lap while he coded the way I do every morning but he wasn't having it. Instead, he worked alone and walked me without reciting old Rakim tunes.

When Dad finished walking me, mom lured me into the kitchen with one of those hoity toity treats and shut the gate behind me. I tried to howl and a splash of citronella spray splashed in my face narrowly missing my eyes. Damnit, moms put the anti barking collar on me without me knowing it. I whimpered as mommy climbed over the baby gate and disappeared beyond the foyer. She was fully dressed. I heard the closet door open and close and knew that she was leaving me behind. I dropped to my belly with sorrow as Pops passed the kitchen also dressed to go. They pretended as though I wasn't there. I began to cry as I heard the door slam and the echo of their voices trail down the steps and out of the house.

I noticed that there was Kong on the floor filled with my favorite peanut butter, whimpered one more time and received a lighter yet no less annoying spritz of Citronella spray and I plopped down on the pillow they left behind for me with a heavy sigh.

Here I Am

I'm a mini-Schnauzer who was born on July 7, 2007 in Hornell, NY but have been called Harlem World home since September. I managed to snag a couple of nice folks to host my stay. Alright, lemme' stop playin'. I guess you can call them my parents. Dad's the best. He always has treats in his pockets when we go out, and he's always showing me new things, like how to do a somersault off the porch steps and how to get frozen treats out of my Kong. He's really tall, so tall that sometimes I get the urge to climb him. I start at his ankles, and then by the time I've made my way to his knees, he's already scooped me up into his big arms and pummelled me with a barrage of kisses.Mom's the ultimate pushover. Whenever she comes home, all I have to do is whine a bit and shake my booty at her and she comes a' runnin' with damn tears in her eyes. She's always shoving food down my throat and picking me up and squeezing me when all I wanna do is lay on my gold floor pillow and check out Mariska Hargitay on Law & Order SVU reruns. Moms Dukes feels mad guilty about having to actually work for a living and leaving me in the house by myself but for real for real...I love it when they're gone. I get to max out to XM Chill and seranade the hot Black Lab on the other side of the courtyard to the sweet sounds of folks like Niccola Hitchcock and John Beltran.I also get to roam freely through the apartment markin' my territory as I see fit. This whole apartment is mine. Holla!!!