Hi There Blog Readers. It's Mac the Dog here. I'm commandeering this thing while my mom wallows in her post-election euphoria. I haven't seen her this happy since I was a little puppy and I learned to stop chewing the baseboards, but it appears that in her state of bliss she can't be bothered to write up anything and the dog is getting worried about this here blog. So I'll tell you a bit about what's been going on around here lately.
The night of the election, after mom got home from canvassing for Obama, mom and dad watched the TV all night, like way past a dog's bedtime, and at 11 pm, they both jumped up and shouted for joy and they danced around the living room and then they watched some more TV. And when the man and his family came onto the TV (the man that mom and dad wanted to be President-not the other man who is a war hero but who has that funny laugh that makes a dog's hair stand up), both mom and dad cried. Happy tears, not tears like mom used to cry when I ate her cashmere sweater. The dog was pretty happy about it, too, because that nice man is getting a puppy for his girls to take to the White House.
The first day after that man, Barack Obama, got elected to the White House, mom and dad would just spontaneously hug each other--that was a pain in the dog's backside, let me tell you, because I'm old and getting up hurts my hips, but I'm not so old that I'm going to let the opportunity to get in on a hug pass by--so there I was all day, up and down, sticking my head in between mom and dad's legs and reminding them that a dog needs some love too. But I digress. So that first day was lots of hugging, but they got over that and went back to normal amounts of hugging.
Then that night they went out to a big fancy, schmancy dinner with their friends, Machias's mom and dad. They had (from what I could smell on them when they got home. Not much gets past this dog's nose) champagne--for celebration purposes I'm sure--they had haddock, and oysters and chocolate mousse and they also had venison. Yup. Deer. I love deer and they didn't even bring me home a bite. Sheesh. So much for this I said to myself.
So I looked mom right in the eye and I told her "Uncle Todd (that's mom's brother. I don't like him much because he calls me a window licker, but on this point, his words can aid the dog's case, so I'm quoting him) says that Comrade Obama is going to redistribute the wealth. And Uncle Todd's probably right on this because he's married to that nice economist who's really smart and who loves the dog. So if Comrade Obama is redistributing stuff, I suggest you follow his lead and BRING THE DOG HOME SOME VENISON next time, Mom." She got the point, I'm pretty sure, because she packed up the dog's Kong with extra biscuits and peanut butter and then the next night I got almost a whole piece of their pizza.
I can't remember what happened the next day, but the day after that, the nice man had a "presser" where he got on TV and talked (that man sure does like to talk, but he's a good talker so I don't mind it at all--Unlike that guy named W. who lives in the White House now and can't talk too good and who makes Mom crabby when he talks) and Mom came out of her office to watch it. She came and sat on the dog's couch and I got to put my head on her lap and get ear scratches while the TV was on. So the man talked about stuff for a while then they asked about the puppy, and I got so excited that I jumped off the couch and told the man, Barack, "get a chocolate Lab--get a chocolate Lab. When we're little we have really beautiful blue eyes and when we grow up, we're just the best dogs in the whole world and your girls would love to have a dog just like me, Mac the Dog!!" I'm not so sure that he heard me, because the dog's pretty sure that the TV is only one-way communication, but I tried to help him out. Based on what the dog is seeing in the papers that Dad reads and then throws on the floor for the dog to read, that man's going to need a lot of help. He's inheriting a big mess. But Mom and Dad seem pretty sure that no matter how big the mess, this man Barack, will be able to handle the mess in a way that's better for America and better for this world. I sure hope they're right.
Ok, so Mac the Dog signing out. It's almost breakfast time and I've got to wake Mom up by padding back and forth in the downstairs hall for a while and making my toenails click. I used to go right up to her bed and put my big head on it and give her a lick, but this dog is way too old to be climbing those steps every morning. I've had to devise new methods. It's just not true that you can't teach an old dog new stuff. Heh, heh. Oh and I'm going to tell Mom to at least take the time out from her euphoria and celebration to tell you about that fancy dinner, because she got to meet Chef Lydia.
Now I've really, really got to go. The Orange Cat, Spikey, is barfing on the oriental rug and all heck's about to break loose. Dad hates it when Spikey barfs and he does that a lot and every time there's a big commotion about it. Dad's patience is just about worn out with the cats, but he still loves The Dog. See ya.
He is so HANDSOME and ARTICULATE. Wonderful post that made me smile.
Posted by: Beth | November 11, 2008 at 06:05 AM
Jack (our dog)celebrated by peeing on the neighbors homemade "Palin for President" sign. He is much less sophisticated than Mac.
Posted by: K-Sea | November 11, 2008 at 09:10 AM
Oh and can you add a ( 's) to neighbor for me please? :-)
Posted by: K-Sea | November 11, 2008 at 09:12 AM
Mac, you are totally handsome. If I wasn't already married and I was into dogs, I would totally "mac" on you...
Posted by: MaineMom | November 15, 2008 at 06:33 PM