Blogs are Tedious and Hard to Keep

What happened? Last post up here was in April. Master went and blogged about me the other day and now I feel obligated to update.

So, I had my manhood removed, against my wishes, thankyouverymuch. That was very uncool. The vet talked the Master into it and no one listened for a second to my feelings. Dang.

Hasn't affected the Frisbee skill, though. And I'm breaking with tradition and posting a color image of me after a successful catch for a first down. I am spying a neighbor cat as this shot was taken, hence the intense stare and macho pose. See, even without balls, I'm still a pretty macho dog.

Eating Like a 1st Century Palestinian

Hey, folks - long time. Sorry to my many fans who've missed me, especially you friends down in Tampa (who I smelled on some of the kids when they got home last weekend. It got me pretty excited, if you know what I mean.)

One of those kids just took me out back for my favorite game, the game of Kings - Frisbee. And so I was pretty spent and hungry afterwards and laid down to eat.

Reclining to eat is much easier on the digestive system than sitting up and eating. I learned this from my study of ancient civilizations. It's the way the Romans did it, the residents of Palestine way back in Bible times, and other smart and industrious peoples.

Speaking of Palestine - how about that Hamas? Crazy m-f-ers, aren't they? Just kidding. I love all people. I have no politics. I'm a damned dog! And I love me some Frisbee and some dry chunks of supposed "food." Not really. I hate this crap, but it's all they give me. I've learned to deal.

Later,

- Roman

I Love Walls

Unlike Brick in Anchorman, I do not just randomly see things and declare my love for them. I really do love walls. Here I am exhibiting my unabashed love of a wall. I will likely try to eat a hole in it later.

I have not posted in this thing for a long time. My apologies to my legions of fans.

Been to the vet recently. He recommends the removal of my manhood. I disagree. He says , "It will calm him down and make him less skittish." Yeah, I'm sure. But don't confuse "depressed to the point of death," with "calm." Skittish? Dude, if you were denied access to all the fine young tail that is swarming around my neighborhood, you'd be at the very least "skittish" and more likely "insane."

Did I mention I hate vets? But this guy is pretty cool. Rides a Harley and gives me treats out the wazoo. (And he also treats my wazoo. Sorry - a little dog humor there.)

Ice is the Food of the Gods

I am pretty easy to please in the treat department. No milk bones or rawhide chews or little fake sausages wrapped in fake bacon and then drenched in chicken broth for this dog. Leave that crap to the house dogs and city sissies. I am a rough and tumble man-dog, who eats a manly snack. Here I am waiting for my favorite treat, an ice cold ice cube. Good for the teeth, good for the body, good for the soul.

Be jealous, all you owners of finicky dogs who eat expensive doggie treats.

Remember the name and tremble in awe each time you hear it...I am Roman, Ice Eater.

Hurricanes Bite

My ancestors come from the high and dry country of Australia. Therefore, it is not exactly in me to enjoy the swamplike conditions of Florida, where frequent hurricanes leave me sort of glum.

This is me, having to take care of business, but hindered by the onslaught of Hurricane Wilma. I sat in the garage like this for too long, and finally picked my way through the puddles to a spot that wasn't underwater and had a long and very unsatisfying whiz.

See Ya, Buddy

This is my farewell with Max. He's trying to act all big and tough, holding back his tears.

Actually, his new home is pretty plush and his new masters have had him before. If you ask me, he's got a great thing going, except for the new dog he's living with; a punk little poodle with a major attitude and an intimidating...ummm. "package," shall we say.

Later,

- Roman

I Live in the Now

Me and Max, enjoying our final weekend together before he moves to his new home in Tampa. I'd say I was going to miss him, but I'm a dog - and I forget whatever is out of sight. For example, my master went to the store and when he got back 15 minutes later, I was so happy to see him. Reason: I forgot he existed until he walked back in the door.

So farewell, Max - I'll remember you next time I see you.