Wednesday, August 22, 2007

Purely hypothetical question

Speaking purely hypothetically here...

Let's say you got a letter with a photo from a beautiful bitch who was asking for your help. Hypothetically speaking, let's say she was not very good at spelling but she really sounded desperate. And let's say she also sent along later a cell phone number and you called it and talked to her, and while her voice was a little croaky, she sounded sincere enough. And let's say you set up a meeting with her for that night, say, out behind the garage where it's real quiet, the point being to get to know her a little better and maybe give her some hints to help her solve her problem. Only hypothetically speaking I mean; not that I know of anyone who needed any hints to solve a problem.

Now hypothetically speaking again, let's say you showed up for the hypothetical meeting and instead of a lovely Estrela female, you were ambushed by a toad. Would it be wrong, hypothetically speaking, for you to run away, screaming in horror, at the thought of what just happened (after defeating the toad of course)?

Not that any Estrela would ever do this -- that's why it is all hypothetical. But I was just wondering.

Monday, August 20, 2007

A suspicious "Ask Bart"

Dear readers,

I received the following letter and I'm not sure what to think about it. I am tempted by the lovely vision even if she is a lousy speller. But something just doesn't feel right. I have to wonder if she is a true Estrela since she doesn't mention anything about feeding me if I come see her. I'm not sure how to answer her. If you have any advice, please do leave a comment!

Dear Bart,

Having read your recent blog post about how you managed to work your way into the humans' house for some attention, I had to write and see if, as a fellow estralla mountain dog, you could help a girl out.

You see, I am trying to get my humans to let me inside their house. To protect them. Not to spy on them or anything. Or try to explode them. An estralla mountain dog would never do that. And also it is dangerous to me to be outside. You know how it is when you think you have made a nice moist indentation in the ground where you can be safe and watch the humans, and you can hear and see them (I mean, any danger to them) all night, and not worry about getting eaten by a snake or stepped on, but then they come along and fill it in and you have to find a new spot? And that new spot doesn't have as many tasty insects as the old spot or does not have convenient access to electricity for charging up your communication devices? The ones you use to protect the humans, I mean. Like us estralla mountain dogs do.

I have tried everything I could think of... croaking incessantly, looking pitiful, pushing the door open with my tongue, hopping in while they weren't looking. I just can't get in! I really, really need to be in there. I mean, they need me and everything. Not so I can hurt them.

So I wondered if you had any hints for me. Or better yet, maybe you could come over and show me a few things. And maybe I could show you a few things too, if you know what I mean. The best time would be late at night, when the humans are asleep. So we don't disturb them, you know. I would hate for them to wake up and hear us. That would just ruin everything. For them, I mean. Not for me.

I have enclosed a photo of myself just in case you were curious what I look like. I am quite a beautiful estralla mountain dog, no?


p.s. I think you need to re-think your position on Toads. They are actually quite lovely creatures. I have found them to be quite noble creatures, beautiful too. They would "never" harm humans! Although they are not good guardians like us estralla mountain dogs, huh! ha ha ha ha!

Monday, August 13, 2007

Toad Invasion: Masters of Disguise

So, it seems my favorite human had a potted plant (kept outside) which was not looking so well. At the same time, she had little holes in the nearby garden. She was quick to blame chipmunks or similar creatures but I had my suspicions. And after a recent rain, when she was going to move the pots back after having moved them out to get some rainfall, my thoughts were confirmed.

Look at this guy:

Cleverly (for a toad) disguised, leaving a trail of wrecked flowers behind him, was a spy.

Those white fibrous things on his back that look like plant roots? Wires to his listening devices. The black blobs on him that look like dirt? Well, they are dirt -- he is hiding in the dirt, you know.

I have seen others like him come out at night and park themselves near the garage door. One actually hopped inside when my agent came in to let me out for a walk. Good thing (for the toad) he saw him before I did.

As for this one, when my humans noticed him he froze long enough so they could get photographic proof, then high-tailed it out of there, only to be confused by the small fence that the humans have as a border to the flower garden.

If you haven't yet realized just how bad the toad menace is, I leave you with one last photo. I apologize for the shocking horror of it, but sometimes that is what it takes for people to see the truth.