Puppies!!!

In a big basket. In the sunlight on hardwood floor!

Yipping. Eyes closed.

Puppies!

Yay! Quote

That’s my last puppy painted on the wall,
Looking as if he were alive. I call
That piece a wonder, now; John YaYa’s hands
Worked busily a day, and there he stands.
Will’t please you sit and look at him? I said
“John YaYa” by design, for never read
Strangers like you that pictured countenance,
The depth and passion of its earnest glance,
But to myself they turned (since none puts by
The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)
And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,
How such a tail wag came there; so, not the first
Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, ’twas not
His master's presence only, called that wag
Of joy into the puppy's’ tail; perhaps
John YaYa chanced to say, “You are suuuuuuch a good boy!,” or “Paint
Must never hope to reproduce the white tuft of hair 'pon thine chest"
Such stuff
Was courtesy, he thought, and cause enough
For calling up that wag of joy. He had
A heart—how shall I say?— too soon made glad,
Too easily impressed; he liked whate’er
he looked on, and his looks went everywhere.
Sir, ’twas all one! My squeak toy in his mouth,
The morning sky climb of the sun to the south,
The bough of alpo some officious fool
Broke in the orchard for him, the white towel
he shook all round the terrace—all and each
Would draw from him alike the approving bark,
Or wag, at least. He thanked men—good! but thanked
Somehow—I know not how—as if he ranked
My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name
With anybody’s gift. Who’d stoop to blame
This sort of trifling? Even had you skill
In speech—which I have not—to make your will
Quite clear to such an one, and say, “Just this
Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,
Or there exceed the mark”—and if he let
Himself be lessoned so, nor plainly set
His wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse—
E’en then would be some stooping; and I choose
Never to stoop. Oh, sir, he wagged, no doubt,
Whene’er I passed him; but who passed without
Much the same wag? This grew; I gave commands;
Then all wags stopped together. There he stands
As if alive. Will’t please you rise? We’ll meet
The company below, then. I repeat,
The Count your master’s known munificence
Is ample warrant that no just pretense
Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;
Though his fair spaniel's self, as I avowed
At starting, is my object. Nay, we’ll go
Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,
Taming a sea-horse, thought a rarity,
Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me! Quote

What may be done with a puppy? Much if you start young enough.

Young Fetterman tried to take 88 puppies and ride through the rough part of town. They made it just over the bridge.

Why does it matter? Why does anything matter for all that. If you can grog the puppy blanket pull as you are belly down on hardwood floor... then you, well let's just not finish that and kick back for a bit.

Just don't let him put a paw on your neck. Once he gets you in that headlock you will find he has amazing strength and cunning mind.

*chuuuffffffff * Puppy sneeze with eyes shut tight.

I will have to think about that...


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You are puppy...
I am man.
You are fuzzy...
So I can be more combed out than.
You are soft to the touch...
That's a feeling...
I like feeling very much... yeaaaaaah.

You are someone...
I admire.
Still our friendship...
leaves something to be desired.
Does it take more explanation than this?
You are puppy... I am man... let's ... pet!!!

Such a goooooooooooooooooood boy!!!!

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WetNose Lyrics for their biggest hit.. Wuff Wuff Wuff Wuuuuuufff Wuff Yowl Yowl Yowl Yowl

Wuff Wuff Wuff Wa Wuff Wuff Wuff
Wuff Wa Wuff Wa Wuff Wuff Wuff
I used to rule the yard
Seas would rise when I slept in the basement
Now in the morning I sleep outside
Stay off the streets I used to own
I used to tease the mutts
Locked in the garage next door
Bark so merrily as they hit the floor
Growling "if we get out of here he is gonna be no more"
One minute I held the key
Next the walls garage doors opened on me
And I discovered that my bravado stands
Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand
I hear garage doors opening
Crazed packs mouths are foaming
Be my barrier, my brake and shield
My distraction in a foreign field
For some reason I can't explain
Once you go there was never
Never a place to dodge behind
And that was when I spun and outraced the field
It was the wicked and wild wind
Blew down the doors that kept them in
Shattered windows and the sound of yowls
Master couldn't believe what I'd become
Packs wait
For my head on a silver plate
Just a puppy headed for a dangerous Fate
Oh who would ever want to be me?
I hear doorbells a ringing
Feral cats are singing
Be my refuge, my harbor in the storm
My master in this hostile world
For some reason I can't explain
I know you won't call my name
Never a yipe was heard
But that was when I left this world
I hear thick collar tags a ringing
Limping post workers calves are stinging
Be my master, my guard and jailor
My savior in this crazy world
For some reason I can't explain
I know you won't call my name
Never an audible bark
But that was when I left this world Quote

Yeah? Well it was big in Sao Paulo! Thaaaaaaat crowd had reeeeaaal energy!

Strum strum strum stra strum strum strum.
Strum strum strum stra strum strum strum .


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Mike Wallace: Wow Sao Paulo was just huge for you guys. What's it like?

Lead barker: A dream come true Mike. Who knew when I was living in the ' lane that I'd make it big some day.

Mike Wallace: A great story to be sure. Now tell me. How do you come up with a song like that?

Lead barker: Some guys say they start with the title. But I start with the riff. A really ruff riff.

Mike Wallace: Indeed.. indeed. Is there a little of you in every song?

Lead barker: A dog writes what he knows about. Sure.

Mike Wallace: So you used to tease poor p1ssed off dogs in garages?

Lead barker: Hey I am from the 'lane man. That's what you gotta do.

Mike Wallace: I see. And where do you think those dogs are now?

Lead barker: Look who cares Mike. Whattever they got, they had it coming... in spades! And anyway, I thought we were talking about my music.

Mike Wallace: Forgive me. I am known for these kinds of detours. A weakness of mine. Please continue.

Lead barker: Yeah the riff, ruff. Then I grab my axe and lay it out Bwar Bwar Bwarrrrrrrrr Bwe Brwarawwwarrrrrrrrr

Mike Wallace; *with raised eyebrows* It sounds like that to start aye? And then you pitch it in front of the rest of the band I bet.

Lead barker: Yeah that's right. They make a few changes. For the market. They know what sells. That's what makes me a great front dog. I listen.

Mike Wallace: And you have a great sense of the spectacular. That set design was pretty amazing.

Lead barker: I AM an entertainer.

Mike Wallace: But you never let anyone touch the lyrics?

Lead barker: Absolutely not. It is my creation. From my soul.

Mike Wallace: There are some that say... forgive me... I am repeating other people's words here... not giving you my personal opinion... but they say.... you don't have any sense of meter or of rhyme.

Lead barker: There are a lot of weirdos out there MIke.

Mike Wallace: One line in particular... Or one grouping stands out... almost as if you had a chance for a chorus and botched it.

Lead barker: *at a loss for words*

Mike Wallace: You know the bit where things are ringing or singing. Seems to be kind of the right place to cash out that build up and way to revert back to that riff you love so much.

Lead barker: I suppose I should insert a bl00dy roman calvary choirs are singing or some such nonsense! And then go around the country explaining this mysterious utterance in my chorus!

Mike Wallace: I am sorry... I didn't mean to provoke you to...

Lead barker: And then have the audacity.. the ever loving hutzpah to drive that into the skulls of my supposedly susceptible fans. As if I had some insight into puppykind's history or something. Maybe a revelation from the Great Spaniel himself as I pottered about my breakfast nook. By repeating over and over with more musical urgency.

Lead barker : I am a serious artist! I don't resort to such tricks!

Mike Wallace: I see. I see. Moving on. You spent a summer in Hobocken once am I right?

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You know what time it is! It is time for a ... PUP RALLEY!!!!!!!!!!!!

CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP!!!! PUPPY POWER!!!!! CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP!!! PUPPY POWER!!!!

Thunder thunderation we're the puppy... generation
Louder!!! PROUDER!!! THUNDER THUNDERATION!!!!!!

one!!!! we are good puppies!!!
two!!! a little bit LOUDER!!!!
three!!! bark it to me bark it to me
FOUR!!!! MORE MORE MORE MORE MOOOOOOOORE!!!!!!

ONE WE ARE THE FUCKING PUPPIES
THREE GONNA GIT YOU BOWSERS
EIGHTY!!!! AMP IT!!! AMP IT!!!! AMP IT!!!!!
DOGGIE TWERK!!! DOGGIE TWERK!!!!!

BOOOOOOOOOOOOM!!!!!!! SHAKE YOUR BONES!!!!
OOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!! UFF UFF UFF UFFFF YOOOOOWWWWWWWWLLLLLLLLLLL!!!!!!!!!
WHERE'S THE BLESSED PUPPIE EMOTICONS!!!!!????/!!!!!!!! HIT IT CLYDE!!!!!



WUFF WUFF WUFF HERE US NOW!!!!! WUFF WUFF WUFF WUFF WUFF WUFF!!!!! ALL NIGHT LONG!!!!!

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WHOOOAAAAAAH OOOOOOOH OOOOOH OOOOOOOOOOOOOH OOOH
WHOOOOAAAAH OOOOOH OOOOH OOOOOOOOOOOH OH

Never an audible bark...
And that is when I left this worrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrlllllllllld

Strum strummie strum STRUM STRUM!!!!!!!


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I GOAD!!!! I DEMAND!!!!

I have risen from my bed this morning and have claimed all of existence! Feel my power and surrender all to me!

Ye puppies! Quivering and tripping... align, form and pledge fealty to me!

What begins today shall echo in all eternity!!!!

I have no patience for any other priority! Now is our time!!!!!!

We will wash away all barriers in the relentless stream of our power surge!!!

Reality itself will bend to our will! Every dream shall become!

Fuzzified! Wet nosed! Universal domination!!!!

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Alarmist: The puppies! Look at those puppies! All they are doing is playing in that basket! All day! That's not how puppies did things in my day! We must act now! Before it is too late! The world can not bear this new puppy philosophy!

Non-interventionist: Stop right there! The prime directive states that we must not interfere in alien societies. How can you, a naked primate understand fuzzykind? The mistake was ever getting involved. Take away the basket! Keep the sun! In a few generations we will have the natural order once again!

Ch1ldrenist: Will somebody please consider the ch1ldren?

All: The puppies?

Profiteer: You guys are all crazy. This is progress! But look at the state of the basket. Dreadful. There should be an immediate upgrade to our new PuppizimerPlus Ultimate Container. Don't be left behind in the race for ultimate fuzziness!

Philosopher: Wait a minute. There are deep implications for all theories here. Just give me some time to work the details here...

Realistic reformer: I see the issue but as a puppy I think the only realistic way I can contribute is to stay in the basket.

Anti-fuzziest: Shave the puppies! Shave the puppies!

Status Quoist: The basket is ideal. The puppy fuzziness is right in the sweet spot. Clearly the correct course is to enjoy the summer with the current configuration.

Australian contingent: Your summers are backwards mate!

Johnny Moon: Maybe here, in the intellectual discussion, I can avoid my evil twin, the fiend known as the ... White Comanche!

Notah: Nice try bro. But our fight is destiny! Rifles, horseback, center of town!

Bruce Lee: The problem with the puppies is rigorous adherence to traditional forms! They should be more like water!

Ammon - Rason: They need to move their capitol north, into the desert!

Snidely Whiplash: Hello fellas... got any rope? Running kinda low and so many damsels...

Underdog: There is no need to fear! Underdog is here!

Seeing the matter is in capable hands... we will move out of the panel discussion and take our worries elsewhere...

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Stop immediately! There is too much precision in all of this!

It is time for: Fuzzy Logic!!!!

Those of you behind in your studies are in big trouble here. For the language to capture this is pure mathematics. With the objective at the high level to substitute intuitive keywords for operations and functions.

So here is what we here at the DoRide Institute for Logeek !!!! are prepared to do for you!



Thatsah right! Drink and drink until everything gets so fuzzy. Can't hurt your logic from what we've seen!

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And what would you have me write about puppy Athos? You of course knew that he would have his space.

Shall I write about his fearless defense of his litter at the barricades? Of his uncanny speed and skill especially of his earlier days?

Or do you wish to pursue him into one of his out of the way brood holes on the East Bank?

He is legend. He is myth. He is charisma. You are drawn to him I know.

Even as you know he is wrong. And wish he could see. Wish his source of strength lay elsewhere. That the Duty that shapes him was not his to bear.

Imperfect pup. Brooding whelp. Hero of France all the same.

There are no perfect heroes. We have to draw from many examples. Hopefully selecting the best from each and not the worse.

So true the world of ideas. You must not worry too much about the manner in which they were birthed. If the mouths that first articulated them were cynical and imperfect. But lift them out of the chaff and weigh their worth using your powerful Reason. With your tribe's petty concerns removed. You can be impartial. You can sift truth to a degree. The stronger generation by generation when virtue guides the sifting.

Do not discard Athos for his faults. See his heroic side. See his faults. Hold him close to your heart and nurture him even if you are an Englishpup and thus his sworn enemy. Yea even if you are a cardinal and rule in the shadows. What a friend you will have if you can and fight well enough by his side.

Now... that's enough of that. You have plenty to sift as it is.

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The basket beckons to us all... teeming with fuzziness. I will not speak against it.

I look at my rivals across the floor... and I wonder at what they are thinking to oppose it! What manner of scoundrel would strike against the puppies in the basket?!

My aged body aches. The young energetic hounds playing and pawing within mocks me. But do I let my attitude devolve into vengeful bitterness and suppress the joy within the lid? Of course not! Nor should any in this chamber!

Do I rain down harsh measures upon their snouts when they stray from within and out onto the floor to trip and slide in sheer puppy joy? Perish the thought! Cleanse the mind with some sort of medicinal spirit that is capable of contemplating such tyrannical actions! This type of disorder is a sign of youth and vigorous household!

I look across the aisle and see only faces pinched up into sneers and a species of cruel snobbery. As if these mutts are truly below such fine men. Such marvels of creation as they truly must be. Keepers of all that is right. Yet to look at them would make any new born babe cry.

Now I move we all adjourn so that my caucus can take a play break. Suuuuuuuch a goooooood booooooy!!!!



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The more I meditate on the matter the more I am convinced it is all about the puppies.

Please do not distract me with earthly delights. I have centered upon fuzziness.

Not even the basket is in my world view. Just the fuzziness. A cloud of fuzziness.

Not even the yips.

Tell the boss I need some more months off. I have not even begun to scratch the fuzziness barrier.

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Yes! Yeeeeesssssssss! YEEEEEESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!

By losing form and substance I have transcended to complete fuzziness.

No longer will I wooooooof. No longer will I clickety clack on hardwood floors!

I am the puppy without manifestation! Keine avatar! Sans support!

The universe is me! No longer nose to feel wet! No longer bowl to red stain my dark hair!

Fuzzy... wuzzy.... Fuzzy... fuzzy... ooooooooooooohhhhhmmmmmmmmmmmmm fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuzzzzzzzzzzyyyyyyyyyyyy

I expand to fill all space! Stretching faster than the dull physicist can grasp.

Before cat came I was!

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I really feel that Duty demands we end this thread here. Obviously there is much more that could be done.

We must always strive for balance in all we do. We must not neglect the cat, scarred and cynical, for the sake of the bubbling basket of puppies. We must tear ourselves away. Feel that all too familiar feeling of loss. As we hove to our ascendant position.

Don't look back in the mirror. Keep to the road.

We won't forget. Never! So long as we are true. Our fuzzy time.

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