They're Back

I'm happy to report that my dog neighbors have returned. My fears of a failed abduction are unfounded. The older dog (I won't reveal his name since he isn't planning to run for public office) told me that he had an epiphany. He realized that the so called "invisible fencing" wasn't real. Pft. I could have told him that. Apparently, he started dabbling in Buddhist meditation a few weeks ago. As he was sitting on his mat and contemplating the illusion of duality, the idea dawned.

"Could it be," he explained to me, "that this unseen fence does not exist at all? Or that it only exists because we think it exists?" He and his younger companion decided to test his theory.

After a few nights of cavorting with the neighboorhood hotties, they both got hungry and came home for some chow. The older one tells me that their owner has now "turned up the power" on their electric collars. He insists that power is also an illusion. I don't know about that. He plans to test his new theory tomorrow. I wished him the best of luck and then sniffed his butt.

Main Street

I went walking along Main Street last evening. I had the opportunity to greet many fellow Anokans and spread the good word about my candidacy. It is too bad none of the news crews I invited could make it. While I was walking back to our car, I peed on the Anoka Government Center's lawn - not to make a political statement, though. I just had to go. Still, I thought I should share.

Mysteriously Missing

Two dogs live next door. For some reason, they don't like to cross the boundary of their yard. I'm told it's because of something called "invisible fencing." Sounds like psychological manipulation to me. Those dogs must be real suckers. Occasionally I enjoy sneaking into their yard and teasing them. I'll charge at them, getting them all frothy and bothered, and then jump just beyond their reach. They bark and paw the ground. I love it.

They went missing a few nights ago. It doesn't seem like a coincidence that they go missing just two days after I announce my participation in the Anoka mayoral race. I think someone may be out to get me. It would be hard to mistake two large German Shepherds for me, though. I'm lucky; they must be dumb perpetrators.

I could be wrong. I hope I'm wrong. I hope that my doggie friends just ran off to pee the town yellow and that they return soon. I miss tormenting them.

Putting a Face to the Name

It's time I put a face to a name. Here's is a photo of me. Wouldn't I make a great mayor?

Snow

January has been unseasonably warm this year, or so I'm told. Since I'm only 2, it's difficult to make my own assessment. On Thursday, the temperature reached 45 degrees. I loved going for a walk that day, tromping along the muddy roads, dodging puddles, and smelling all of the newly revealed rotting yard waste.

Speaking of yard waste, my backyard is a minefield. Anywhere I walk, I risk stepping in my own poo. It wasn't so bad when the weather was colder because every few days snow would fall and cover another layer of the minefield. Since Thursday, however, the snow has melted and I'm wary of every step.

This morning, the skies granted a reprieve - a dusting of snow. I sense my adoptive parents' relief. They shouldn't get off that easily. If I'm elected mayor, I'll do something about this turd problem. It's not that I mind the smell, which I don't, but I hate having to walk gingerly in my own backyard because of my parents' laziness.

Nap time.

Ah. I feel refreshed. Where was I? Right: doing something about the poo field. When I'm elected mayor of Anoka, I'll send yard inspectors to every home with a dog. They will be burly inspectors with big muscles and intimidating names, like Blade Goodkill and Danger Crushman. When I'm mayor, no one will need to worry whether their next step will be clean or stinky. When I'm mayor, I will clean up Anoka's backyards.

Doggie Sense

I'm not the biggest fan of corn, but I tell you, if any of it drops on the floor, I'm there. While my adoptive parents cook, I usually stand guard like a soldier, ready at a moments notice to trot to their aid. But it doesn't matter where I am. When food stuff falls on the kitchen linoleum, I get a tingling feeling at the back of my neck and I run. I am the doggie equivalent of Spiderman.

This is one of the reasons I would make a good mayor. I am vigilant.

Campaign Announcement

Hello. My name is Thomas Peterson, and I am running for mayor of Anoka, Minnesota. My aides tell me there's paperwork to fill out and hands to shake before it's official, but I don't care about any of that. It's difficult to write when you don't have opposable thumbs. I much prefer to dictate and make my laptop do the work. I have learned how to shake, though. I'm proud to say that it was one of my first tricks.

Nap time.

Okay. I'm back. Now that I go back and read my first paragraph, I realize that I should explain something about myself. You may think that this thing that I will be revealing should disqualify me from public office, but nothing in the Anoka charter explicitly forbids it.

I am a French Bulldog. Don't let the name fool you; I am not French. I was born in East Bethel, and my adoptive family raised me here, in Anoka. Now that I'm all grown up, I think it's right time I did something for myself. I have considered selling Bibles or teaching relaxation classes, but I want to do more. I've been on plenty of walks around town, I've seen the dirty streets and I've smelled the urine in the grass, and I think I have something to contribute. Fellow netizens, Anoka needs me.