The puppies speak...er...write

Hi, my name is Abby – as in Gnome Hill’s Abby Road? Which is something to do with music or some old group Da Mama, like, listened to back in the ancient times when people had, like, these things, ya know? Like, they went around and around? Anyway, like, Da Mama? Named us all, like, after these guys or what these guys, like, sang?

By us I mean like me and my brothers and sisters. I’m the youngest which is, like, so lame because they all think they’re so, like, smart and I’m so, like, dumb, so I’m, like, “Whatev-er” ‘cuz they never let me say anything anyway so, like, duh, ya know?

First there’s my brother Hokie, who’s kind of a nerd, all skinny and all and I’m like, “Dude, eat a sandwich or something,” which he does, like, all the time, but he still looks like that Bono guy should, like, feed him or something.

Then there’s my brother Nanook who’s, like, really, really uber-big, like Godzilla or something and he’s the only one who can, like, take the boney from Toppergetdown and not get, like, creamed because Toppergetdown doesn’t like anyone to have a boney but him, so he, like, takes all the bonies and keeps them on his bed and I’m like “Whatev-er, Dude,” but Nanook really like the boney and he doesn’t care when Toppergetdown growls about it, he just, like, takes whatever boney he wants and then he’s like all, “Suck it up, Dude,” and Toppergetdown is all, “Grrr, Grrrr,” and I’m like, “Shut up.”

This is my oldest sister Breeze and she’s really nice because she, like, let’s me chew on her ears and her tail and stuff and doesn’t go, like, whining to Da Mama like someone else around here. And Breeze doesn’t talk much and I’m like, “What’s that about?” because we’re puppies, right? Like, we’re supposed to make noise.

After that comes my brother Ringo who hogs all the Snausages and knows where Da Mama keeps them and whenever he sees Da Mama he’s all like, “Gimme a Snausage! Gimme a Snausage!” and jumping on Da Mama and Da Mama is like, “Off, Ringo! Off!” and even I know “off” means not to, like, jump up on Da Mama, but Ringo is, like, “Duh.”

And then there’s my sister Sadie, who’s got, like, A BIG LOUD MOUTH and who THINKS SHE’S SO HOT and all and she’s, like, always in trouble with Da Mama for nipping and sometimes she, like, tries to nip me because she thinks because she’s older than me she’s allowed to and she’s, like, “You have to let me nip your butt,” and I’m like, “Get away from me, Skank,” and she’s like, “You’re a skank,” and I’m like, “No, you’re a skank,” and she’s all, “Real snappy comeback, Geek,” and I’m like, “Whatev-er” and she’s like “Whatev-er.” But when someone nips her butt, she’s all like, “Wahhhhh! Abby nipped my butt! Wahhhh! Wahhhh!”

Oh and there’s my mom, who’s not Da Mama, but, like, my real, biological mother? She doesn’t pay much attention to us because she mostly sleeps all day? Which is fine with me because when she’s awake she’s all, “Be a good Dah-ling and fetch Mother a martini” or “Can’t someone put a muzzle on that chatterbox,” like, meaning me, like I talk too much or something?

So I’m, like, “Whatev-er.”

For the Love of Dog...

Isn't it time to wean the little beasts, Dah-ling?

Really, Dah-ling...

Don't we have staff that can deal with these. . .guinea pigs?

Miracle?

Well, Dah-lings, all I want to know is, who called it The Miracle of Birth?

The Zsa Zsa is not happy. The Zsa Zsa was mislead and there will be repercussions.

Miracles, in case you haven’t heard, Dah-lings, involve heavenly light and angels singing. Pain and groaning are not usually miraculous accompaniment. And I’m pretty sure miracles do not end with EIGHT GERBILS CRAWLING ALL OVER THE ZSA ZSA!

I don’t know whose idea this was, but I have a feeling That Woman was involved in the decision. Thank Dog someone showed up who had a clue.

But gerbils? And they all seem to know The Zsa Zsa and follow The Zsa Zsa all around the Pen of the Huge Dog Head until The Zsa Zsa just has to give up.

I tell you, Dah-lings, I will put up with only so much of this and then it’s off to Boarding School for the lot of them. I’ve already arranged an education for half of them. Three will attend The Sor-Bone. No, not that place they send uncouth people, The Sorbonne, in France. This particular academy is in Germany and accepts only the finest quality applicants. The other will be send to Great Britain to attend Eatin’, which, The Zsa Zsa would like to point out, turned down the Royal Family, who was then forced to send their puppies to Eton.

A few will remain in this country to spread the word of the magnificence that is Zsa Zsa to the far-off lands of Maryland and West Virginia.

A few will remain here to wait upon The Zsa Zsa, a task that seems to be beyond the capability of That Woman, who has yet to recognize The Zsa Zsa’s need for a private spa and personal trainer.

And, perhaps, Dah-lings, they will soon stop looking like cat bait. One can only hope…

And Lo!...

Our Lady of Gnome Hill

The Angel of Dog came unto the Zsa Zsa and said to The Zsa Zsa, "Be not afraid, The Zsa Zsa. For The Zsa Zsa is favored of Dog. The Zsa Zsa shalt bring forth unto the world that which is The Litter among litters and all will rejoice at the coming of The Litter."

So The Zsa Zsa says to the angel, "How can this be? The Zsa Zsa is pure and virginal, even when The Zsa Zsa went to see the Beloved Q of Bayshore, I swear to Dog -- we only held paws and talked about politics..."

And Lo! The Angel of Dog snickered, yea though The Zsa Zsa wouldst be insistent. "Dost thou not know that already thou art with Litter? And that Litter wilt be a light unto Dogdome and Lo! Six is the number of The Litter; Six is The Litter of the Almighty Dog; The number is Six -- give or take..."

"Don't you know, what with being the Angel of Dog and all?" The Zsa Zsa said unto the angel.

Yea though she would plead, the angel would tell her no more of The Litter. And the angel left her.

And The Zsa Zsa went amongst the people of Virginia and announced the Coming of The Litter, though still a Zsa Zsa of purity and virtue.

And Lo! There was much rejoicing and passing of clam dip and various spirits amongst the people, who also snickered.

I have such news!

Guess what, Dah-lings!?

The Zsa Zsa has agreed to meet a prospective…shall we say, amore!

Of course, The Zsa Zsa is only barely of age to participate in such an endeavor and The Zsa Zsa, being so shy and retiring, must admit to be slightly horney twitterpated. Oh, yes! The Zsa Zsa is twitterpated!

So we will travel to the farthest reaches of Shenandoah County where there just happens to be the studmuffin gentledog who has caught the eye of the Zsa Zsa. And who knows: a soft spring breeze, a new moon, a little Sinatra on the stereo…and The Zsa Zsa may have an announcement…

But The Zsa Zsa gets ahead of Herselfness…

(You don’t think That Woman was smart enough to find someone worthy of The Zsa Zsa, do you? NOOOOO…Thank goodness for Mamma K, who I suppose had nothing to do since all she does all day is watch soap operas or something. She claims her leg is broken, which, of course, is no excuse for the total cease of regular pilgrimages to do homage to The Zsa Zsa.)

Note to my dear, dear friend Polly: Rumor has it one of your little brats puppies, Liam, had something to do with the attempted murder the maiming the “accident” that caused Mamma K to fall (Mamma K says it was the wet grass and the hillside, but The Zsa Zsa knows she’s just being polite). I’m sure the rest of your litter will somehow manage not to do too much damage to anyone. One juvenile delinquent isn’t so bad, Dah-ling. Though you can’t help but notice that blood does tell, Dah-ling.

To my dear, dear friend, Polly,

How are you, Dah-ling! It's been so long since we've been in touch. Long, long before The Bedford qualified in herding, which was this weekend.

Last I heard part of your brood has to leave the country...I'm so sorry, Dah-ling! Now, now, these things happen and let's not allow these pesky little disgraces incidents spoil our warm, loving relationship. You can contact me anytime through my close male relative, The Bedford, who qualified this weekend.

I believe one should communicate with all strata of society, whether they are mothers to offspring forced out of the country or, say, a close female relative to high born paragons who qualified in herding. So do write and let me know how your spawn are faring. I'm sure most of them will be permitted to stay here.

Oh, did I mention that The Bedford qualified in herding this weekend? He came in first. We're related, you know.

Licks and Kisses,

The Zsa Zsa