Seven AM

Oh man, why am I awake so early? Oh right, my four-footed Alaskan Husky alarm clock woke me up with the crack of dawn. You can lead a horse to water, but you can't make him sleep in until 10:00. I suppose I could slip an Ambien in his puppy chow, but I fear it's effects on canines. What merely slows down our heart rate would probably stop his completely. Even though I love my experiments, that's an experiment I'll let someone else do. Granted, he's a total spaz, but I think I'll keep him around a while.

Just for the record, as I type right now, he's diligently ammassing an arsenal of dog toys in a growing pile behind me in the den. It's as though he heard there was a dog toy convention in town this week and he's trying to decide which one to bring to impress all the bitches. You can practically see the hamster spinning on his mental wheel. "Oh man, should I bring Mr. Sqeaky Pumpkin, my frizbee, or the rawhide bone? Oh, what am I thinking? Rawhide is SOOO 2004. Only Terriers would be caught dead with a rawhide bone..."

OK, the decision has been made. He's choosen his Giggle Stick. Hey you in the back of the room, I can hear you laughing. No double entendres here, people. It's too early. I didn't name it. His Giggle Stick is merely this rubber bone that bounces crazily all over when you play catch, and it's his favorite toy ever. Every time we play catch, he chases it around as though he's never seen it before.

So my dog isn't the brightest animal on the planet. Good thing he's so cute. He's like that blonde girl in high school who just barely passed math class by tossing her volumous hair around and giggling to all the nerdy boys to get them to cheat for her. Come on, like a beautiful girl like that would actually date any one of us... Uh, I mean, any one of them. (Michelle Williams, since we're all adults now, the nerds of the world forgive you.)

Yes, I know. There's no need to keep telling me. I'm still a nerd, and my dog is cute. Strangers tell me how beautiful he is all the time. Admittedly, it's a bit rough on my ego. He's the cute one, I'm simply the one holding the leash. Well, if it wasn't for me, he'd have been put to sleep. And come to think of it, if it wasn't for him, I'd still be sleeping.

Well, regardless, I'm awake. Since I have some time to kill, I suppose I should get running. Literally. This morning is perfect for a nice, long run. Sadly, it will be my last run as a 32 year old. Consider it my "XXXII Farewell Tour". You can buy commerative t-shirts at the concession stand.

Oh, and we'll see you at the dog toy convention. Whatever you do, don't bring a rawhide bone.