Melanie, the littlest gentle human that I know, has a word for her interactions with me.  She calls it, “getting puppyfied.”

I guess that’s a good word for it.  Yesterday, mom and dad were gone all afternoon, leaving me alone in the house with those two purry-things.  But when they got home I heard mom ask dad, “Are you prepared to get puppyfied?”

Dad replied, “Sure, bring him on” and there I was, greeting them at the door, jumping and licking and wiggling and — well, being as excited as a puppy can be!

He was puppyfied.

And then, when I saw Colleen, I had to greet her, too.  And you can see from this photo that when I jumped up on her, I am almost as tall as she is!

Her first words were, “Puppy breath …”  Well, of course, what would you expect?  I am a puppy, and a clever one at that.  I’m not a frog, or it would have been froggy breath.  It wasn’t horse breath, or lizard breath, or (shudder) purry-thing breath.

No, I am a puppy.  And I have wonderful, delicious, aromatic puppy breath.

After a while I settled down and played with some of my toys.  But the puppyfication wasn’t over.  Dad sat down and so I decided to sit in his lap.  With my toy fish.

I was glad to see them after being alone all afternoon.  Can you blame me for being so excited when they got home?  I was a happy dog, just lying in his lap, with my fish, and wondering …

wondering what fish breath smells like?


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