A Christmas Eve Tail with Himself and a Maltese

I couldn't sleep. May have been my lack of exercise yesterday. Or, watching Herself and AuntJ's attempts to put together the new computer ... I donno! But I couldn't sleep, which is remarkable in and of itself.

So, I jumped down from my bed ... don't ask how ... and walked into the Living Room where ... there ... I found ... HIM!. I knew instantly who he was ... NOBODY else would wear that outfit, although I did see a dog walking around with a similar outfit just the other day. He was looking around for what was left for him to eat ... but I don't think Herself thought he would stop by 14A this year and didn't leave milk and cookies or even a glass of water. I noticed he was making note of that against Herself's name in his book ... ah oh!

"Oh! Mystical!" he said. "Glad to see you! Of course, you can't tell anyone that you saw me here. HO HO HO! That's funny. You can't tell anyone ... you're a dog!." His tummy bounced around as he laughed. "Haven't seen you since I got notice that you were here living in New York City as a little pup. You haven't grown much ... not like me, huh?"

I asked him how many gifts he leaves for my group ... dogs. "Oh! lots. Every year I get letters from their owners asking for lots of things for their dogs and yes, cats, too. Can't forget them. Although when I come across a cat on my travels on Christmas Eve, they usual look at me from the top of a piece of furniture with not much interest. I wink at them as I leave and sometimes ... just sometimes ... they purr a note of appreciation. But very little talk."

Tell me Santa, I asked, which one of us do you prefer? Dogs or cats?

"Oh! listen Mystical, I love all of God's four legged creatures a whole bunch, although I must admit, I have a soft spot for my reindeers.

I know what a good dog you've been all year and I want you to know that that I've noticed and have a star next to your name in my book here." And then, he turned the book around for me to see the great big gold star right there next to the name "Mystical, the New York Dog".

Wow! I licked his hand and said "Oh gosh, Santa, thanks a whole lot for showing me".

"Now, said Santa, I have to be off to my other stops, but I suggest you don't tell anyone that I have given you a gold star ... that, he said, would be boasting. I've noticed that you have a very good opinion of yourself ... must come from all that loving you get ... makes you feel omnipotent."

"Huh??? Omni-what???" I tilted my head back and forth ... which is what I do when I really don't know what you are talking about. Santa uses such big words ... doesn't he realize I'm a dog?
You would think he could talk dog to me ... being Santa and all.

"Humility! That's what I think you should show this next year. Otherwise, Mystical, you're almost perfect." He put his finger besides his nose, and laughed HO, HO, HO, Merry Christmas to you.

He gathered his big black bag, swung it over his shoulder, turned and gave me a wink and walked out the front door (no fireplace you see). I heard him clump up the stairs to the roof where his sled and Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Vixen, Comet, Cupid, Donner, Blitzen and my fav. Rudolf were waiting.

I ran to the window and put my paws up on the windowsill and listened ... and then, yes, I heard him say as he drove out of sight, "Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night."

I went back to bed with visions of fuji apples dancing in my head and contemplating the joys of gold stars next to my name.

Merry Christmas to all of you. And a wonderful New Year filled with treats, pats, tummy rubs and lots of love and companionship.

And a special happy New Year to my friends on the 14th floor, both 2 and 4-legged ones.

"HO HO WOOF, WOOF."

This Groomer Should Be Run Out of Town

As a dog, an animal, when I hurt, I usually go off in a corner and lick my wound till it feels better.

BUT ... two weeks ago, Herself took me to the Groomer we've been to before. Now, you know from my earlier posts that grooming is not high up on my list of favs. But, I had no choice but to go with Herself and AuntJ, who was also there with me.

I don't know how to explain the torture I went through except to say when Herself came to pick me up I cried for a whole day. Actually, I was crying out from down deep inside of me. I couldn't catch my breath. I think my body was in shock with pain. I heard her call the Groomer and say "What happened? Why is Mystical in such a state?"

I've tried to communicate to Herself what happened by crying out but she couldn't possibly know until ... that is ... last night when I was given a bath. You know I have long white flowing hair, like most Mateses and my skin couldn't be seen until wet. There on my rump were red blotches that looked like puncher marks. I heard Herself take a big intake of air and say "Oh my God, what is this? "

Hey, Mom ... I sort of don't know what it is but I sure felt it. Now you can see why my whole body and spirit were so traumatized. She took me out of the bath and wrapped me in a big blanket and oh so gently carried me to where she dried me. And since last night she's been kissing me like crazy and gently petting me. (I sure like that!)

We dogs can whimper or even cry out, but normally when we are really hurt we just hope it stops and we can go back to the way we were. Of course, we also look to our humans to help make it better.

Actually, I think if Herself could have bopped that Groomer on the head she would have. I don't know what she is thinking of doing, I just want the whole memory to go away ... fade away into my 4000 year old ancestral memory bank.

I love everyday of my life ... except for that one day.

I will never forget that day,

that street,

that groomer,

or that pain.

I'll wait for you by the door while I try to put something much more pleasant in my mind.

Share Your Dog With Others

Frieda, my friend and neighbor, who lives down the hall from me and Herself, put this NewYorker cartoon under our door the other day.

This woman was chastising her cat for being "entirely too friendly with the Hendricksons". The cat was obviously feeling her displeasure.

Frieda wrote under the cartoon, that she was pleased that Herself freely shared me with one and all.

What's with that? Of course, I should be shared with my friends. I love them all. I get a charge being around them. I'm crazy about Herself ... but I like hanging with my friends too. They're all different. They smell different. They sound different. They tickle me differently. All that makes for my very interesting world.

I was thinking the other day that my world is very small. When I watch TV, I can see that there are millions of humans out there ... in the streets, in the ballpark, even in the White House shouting questions at the Prez ... by the way ... why does his head go back and forth like that??? ... I get a crick in my neck following him.

Anyway ... I want to meet as many humans as I can and then come back home and think about them.

So, I thank Frieda, my dear friend. Thank you for thinking of me and knowing that I love meeting you in our hallway and playing with you. It makes my day.

Nap time. All this dictating is tiring.

Met Another Maltese Devotee

Was out and about with Herself (my Mom) and AuntJ yesterday, and met a really nice man. It all started with him talking about me (nothing new about that) but then the interesting stuff happened.

He and his wife also have a Maltese, just about my size (4 1/2 lbs) named Gypsy, with similar personality quirks like mine. By the way, there must be a story behind that name, don't you think?

Gypsy wasn't there ... I would have loved to have seen her and checked her out with a few quick sniffs ... but I learned that she loves cars, like me, loves airplanes too. I've never been on an airplane ... so I don't know if I would love it ... that remains for me to experience. I love my routines, but new experiences are luxurious too. Apparently Gypsy doesn't talk as much as I do, but she is insistent on her food arriving promptly. Smart dog!

I really do think this life I have is just wonderful. I am a happy dog. I'm rarely mad or prone to growl. If I growl, you better look at that human and form an impression that he or she is someone to avoid in your life. I have this inner sense about a lot of things and am rarely wrong.
Trust me.

So, this inner sense of mine tells me, without meeting Gypsy, that I think I would enjoy her and we could share stories about our travels. For example, I could tell her of the first day I met Herself when I was a puppy, and on our trip home from Philadelphia, I peed on her lap. :-)

Time for a nap. I'll take it by the door in case a certain Gypsy sashays by.

Rocko, my Neighbor, and I Share a Birthday

Actually, the same month, January, and the same year (that's for us to know).

I keep hearing that girl dogs should shave off a few years ... and I'm thinking about it.

But then I say to myself, "Self, aren't you proud of your age ... all you've been through, all you've seen?"

How many years would I take off, one, three, five???? Can't do ten cause then I would disappear ... poof!

No, I think Rocko and I should be happy with our age and the wisdom it brings. I don't even know if he thinks about it or me for that matter. He goes charging down hall right past me sometimes. Maybe the next time, I'll stick my paw out and trip him. Then again, maybe not.

I'm going to wait for you by the door and ponder this age-business. By the way, what's this thing cats have about nine lives? Huh?

I Met a Dog on the Street

I know it was a dog, because I barked. But, this dog was such a tiny little thing - that I could have saved my breath.

Twitter, is his name. Actually, his name is longer than he is. He's half my size in pounds ... that's right ... Twitter is 2 LBS small. He's 2 years old so there won't be more to him.

I must admit he's cute. A little brown French Poodle. I felt L A R G E next him. Which, at my size, is a totally new feeling for me.

I have noticed in my travels through life, that my species comes in all sizes and all colors and all shapes and all personalities. I'm more of an observer of life. I watch everything. Then I think about what I've seen and make a judgement ... all in a split second. For example, when I met up with Twitter, I got a maternal feeling about him (that is after I issued one loud bark, first). I could see myself picking him up by the scruff of his neck and carrying him in my mouth, if his little legs got tired and he couldn't make it home. Believe me, this is a very unusual feeling for me ... I'm usually in a constant state of extreme readiness to warn every 4-legged creature not to mess with me ... because of my size. But not with Twitter. He did have his human with him and she seemed very attentive ... but just between us dogs, I think he had a hard time keeping up with her.

He has a brother called ... wait for this ... Blackberry. Cute names both of them but awfully nerdy, don't you think?

I'm gonna go wait for you by the door and think about Twitter and make up other cute dog names ... how about ... iPup?

Well ... It's About Time!

We four legged creatures have been loving humans forever.

We calm them when they're crazed, we jump with joy when they're happy, we lick their boo boos, we stay clear of them when they are angry, (not at us of course...but something else entirely). We wait patiently, or in my case impatiently, till they come home and then we leap into their arms thrilled to see them. We allow them to play with us, and we listen when they're telling us of their day. We let them dress us up in something we would never put on ourselves much less pay money for. This, and much much more, we've been doing for CENTURIES.

So, when the United States Postal Service (a government agency of some reputation) finally acknowledges us and those of us who want to be adopted, and put our faces on stamps that will travel all around the world ... I say, GREAT.

Yes, I know there are cats on the stamps as well. But I'm an equal-opportunity creature and believe that they too, should be recognized, and I'm told they do as much for their humans as we dogs do. But they're more ... self-important. Not ever being a cat, I don't know what goes on their heads, but hey ... it's a big world.

How about one of those Swedish awards, the Nobel Prize for Dog, or the Best Dog Oscar, or the Congressional Dog metal. I know they give out metals to dogs that are rescue dogs, they deserve a chest full of metals, but how about us at home dogs ... we do a lot too, it's just that the media doesn't pick up everything we do do.

Still, I'm thrilled that the Government has put their stamp of approval on us and what we do for our human families and I'm going to lie by the door and wait for you so we can exchange stories about our contributions to their well being.

And hey, go out there, if you need to be rescued, and look adorable and find a terrific human family like I have. Don't get down ... be positive and when some human comes along and looks at you, go up to them and let them know that you're loving and would make a terrific companion ... and speak to them telepathically "Take me home" with a comehither look. If you see a smile on their face you'll know you've gotten through to them. Pack you bags ...

When you're as happy as I am, it will show on your face ... so when it's time for a stamp with your picture, you will look precious, fetching and loved.

New Dog in Town

OK! Here's the thing. I'm a reasonably friendly Maltese. BUT!!! My territory is my territory. The 14th floor of my home on the UES of New York is becoming the dog run in Central Park.

I was the sole star on my floor. Everyone came to me for licks and tailwagging. Some even sat down on the floor and rubbed that special place just above my tail. AHHHHH!!!

Then ... along came ROCKO. The Boston Terrier. Lumbering up and down the hall to his apartment. I know he's there. We tolerate each other. (Actually, between you and me, I find him fascinating.)

But, now I have to come to a place of peace, because "my" Rachel, my next door neighbor, who grew up with me, has gotten her own ......................................... dog.

Roxie, the Norfolk Terrier.

I was introduced to her while she was penned up in the kitchen (she's a puppy, you understand, and puppies are 'uncontrollable' little things).

I was heartbroken.

I cried.

Rachel, my pal, went and got something with four legs like me to fawn over. It's too much!

Herself and I had some talks about sharing, acceptance and the one she seemed to stress, tolerance. But, it's all gone over my head. I'm a dog. Don't except me to be a saint.

I'll have to think about this. I'll wait by the door in case you come and want to philosophize more about sainthood.

Why can't it just be like it was?

I'll deal with it. I'm adaptable.

I'm the adult around here.

But, I sure hope they remember to respect their elders.

This Maltese is a Better Dog Than I

This Maltese at the Westminister Show this week, is a more patient, image-obsessed, and goal-oriented dog than I am. I would never sit or stand there and let that happen to me.

Of course, there are times, like now, when it is obvious that I'm in need of some clipping and shaping. But seeing as I hate to go to the groomer (or Spa, as Herself now calls it ... thinking I don't know the difference between the two words) Herself has put it off.

But, a visit is coming soon and I'm not looking forward to it. I'm delighted when it's over and I get out of there and breath the fresh New York City air walking back home. I begin to relax.

I'm all Girl but I don't get all bent out of shape about hairdressing and nail clipping. It's just hearing Herself say things like "You look like a fright" or "It's time to pay a visit to the Spa" that I know I must gather my inner core together and do it.

OK! Let's get it over with!

Meanwhile, I'll wait by the door and compose myself by silently doing a mantra: "I will enjoy it", "I will enjoy it", I will enjoy it", until I convince myself. NOT!

What's With Some of These Humans???

There was Lexie, waiting patiently for her human mommy to come out of the store and along came some creep and what did he (or maybe she) do???????

Oh No! A human mugged Lexie.

Robbed her of her coat. Can you beat it? It's cold, snow as high as I am on the ground, and unless it was another dog who mugged Lexie, what in heavens name could a human do with her coat?

I don't know about these humans ... some of them are just plain fresh. But, some, like Herself and AuntJ and some of my other human friends and family are WONDERFUL. They would never steal my coat ... why would they?

Well, Lexie, if you want to come over to my house, with your Mom, and sit around in the warmth and maybe run down the hall with me and let out your frustrations, come on over. I'll wait for you by the door.

It's Just the Way We Dogs Are

I glanced over Herself's shoulder, and watched this terrific woman in New York and her love for dogs and I smiled all day. It's true what this video says: If we trust you, we love you forever.

Herself knows everything about me. I've kept nothing back. I've shared it all with her. And even those little, itsy bitsy things that I thought I'd keep to myself ... I eventually told her. How? you ask. Well, I look into her eyes and we talk. Then I walk away and smile to myself.

Anyway, I'll go over and wait for you by the door ... meanwhile click here and watch this wonderful story of this New Yorker and the love given and love received.