Throw it again!

I love to play Frisbee! I can even catch it every now and then. I'm getting better at protecting my nose, too. It stings when I miss and hit my nose. Dad says I need practice.

Another thing I need to practice is giving the Frisbee back to Dad so he can throw it again. I get so excited I forget! It's mine! Mine! Mine! 

I know Dad's right, and I know I can't chase it if he can't throw it. I'll get better and better and then Mom can get a video. I'm only nine months old. I've already come a long way!

Dad knows when I've played enough for one session. He told me to take the Frisbee to Mom, and then she took my picture. Then I dropped the Frisbee between the porch steps and it's still there. Mom says I have to figure out how to get it all by myself. I hope she changes her mind and gets it for me, but Mom's pretty tough about my toys. 

Guess I'd better ask her, politely of course, how to get it out. Then I'll be more careful. I always am after I've "lost" a toy. After all, they are MINE. 

I can spell p-i-z-z-a

I know exactly what it says on that box. PIZZA.  

I know, so I'd better get a piece. 

Not just a bite. I want a whole piece. 

For me. 

I'm Deuce, and I can spell P-I-Z-Z-A.

A lesson in life

I've been a little sad the past couple of days. Mom and Dad took the cat to the vet. I didn't see him when they brought him home, but Mom explained they buried him up on the hill beside Jett, Callahan and Taz. Mom told me not to go up there and I think I'll listen to her on this one.

Mom told me I'd be the last dog to go on the hill. I wasn't too sure what she meant at the time, but she was sad when she told me. So I've been listening closely to Mom and Dad talk, and I think I have it figured out. 

I know that one day I'll get old, and I'll be tired, and it'll be time for me to go. Dogs know these things and we know it's ok. Mom's have a hard time with it. I think cats must get old and tired, too. I know Shooter was old. He told me in no uncertain terms he was too old to take any puppy nonsense from me. 

Maybe I should have been nicer when he slept in my puppy daybed. Mom said he wasn't hurting a thing by taking a nap in it when I wasn't using it, but I barked at him anyway. 

I think Shooter was ready to go, and Mom and Dad made sure it was easy for him. They said he's beside his best friend, Jett, who I never met. They say Callahan and Taz were buddies, too. 

Mom promised as soon as I'm done growing and know how to be 'easy' I can get a kitten of my own. I think Mom will be over being sad about Shooter by then. Having my own cat will be a big responsibility. It'll be up to me whether or not we're going to be friends because I'll be the older, bigger one. 

I think I can do it because I'm Deuce! I'm a good dog!

Pizza Night

Mom brought home a pizza for dinner. I knew what was in that flat box the moment she got it out of the car. 

I have great parents. I love them a lot, but sometimes they don't act too smart. Mom put puppy chow in my bowl and then gave Dad pizza. 

I mean - come on! Seriously? Did she really think I was going to eat dog food while they ate pizza??? I don't think so!! 

Dad's a soft touch. I knew if I asked him, politely of course, he'd give me a bite or two. He finally did, but he broke off the pieces and threw them at me. I didn't get it at first, but then I caught one! 

Mom says I'll get better at catching things. She says it's good to be the dog and have food fly into your mouth. Mom is right about a lot of things.