I Refuse to Get Him the iPhone 5

A couple more correspondences between me and our texting bulldog, Wonderbutt:

 

Too much barking. Or too much pizza. It’s a toss-up.

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Another Reason Why I Don’t Need a Gun

I don’t think I ever gave a first, or second, or third reason for not owning a gun.  But, I’m pretty sure you don’t care.  Anyway, here is another text from Wonderbutt, the bulldog, explaining why I have nothing to fear – besides him.

Thank goodness Wonderbutt protects us from Evil Lizard Monsters.

Who R U Calling Fat?

Our bulldog, Wonderbutt, has become adept at texting.  He is not so adept at social skills.

 

 

Wonderbutt has started lifting weights to work on slimming down.

If You Really Missed Me Last Week, I’d Rather Not Know

I returned home from my week at Harvard yesterday. Everything was on time, except my ride home from the airport.  Leave it to Cap’n Firepants to strand me at the curb.

In the car on the way back to the house, everyone’s expectations were high for Wonderbutt’s reaction to my homecoming.  Dimples assured me that he had missed me, evidenced by his decision to pee on the floor twice while I was gone.  I reflected back on how many people in my life have expressed their feelings toward me this same exact way, and realized that I may have misinterpreted their actions.  Ah, it’s good to be loved.

When we got to the house, and entered, Wonderbutt was in the Kitchen Corral with Mrs. P.I.B.  I put down my bag, and went over to release the hounds by moving the baby gate.  Wonderbutt did not seem to be surprised that I had suddenly reappeared.  Once the gate was moved, he gave my jeans a couple of sniffs.  Unimpressed, he raced to the front door to see if anyone more exciting would be coming through the portal.

Using Dimples’ logic, I suppose the only way to tell that Wonderbutt was moved by my return was that he neglected to mark any territory in the hallway last night.  I’ve had better greetings, but I guess I’ll take what I can get.

A Happy Wonderbutt. Can’t You Tell?

Some More Texts from Wonderbutt

My 9-year-old daughter and I went on an impromptu trip to Dallas this weekend.  (We live in San Antonio, about 5 hours away.)  Our bulldog, Wonderbutt, stayed home with Cap’n Firepants, but obviously missed us.

(You can learn more about Mark Cuban here.  He owns the basketball team, the Dallas Mavericks, arch-rival of our own San Antonio Spurs.  And he has said some pretty negative things about our city over the years.)

Wonderbutt Smoking a Cuban.
Fine.
Not Wonderbutt. (Wonderbutt is far cuter.)  Probably not a Cuban, either.
photo credit: http://cigars-etc.com/

Wonderbutt missing us. Courtesy of Cap’n Firepants.

I Guess I Expect Too Much…

Our bulldog, Wonderbutt, who will be 2 in October, may be a texting genius, but there are still a few lessons left that he needs to learn.

If you are interested in reading other texts from Wonderbutt, click on the “Wonderbutt Texts” category on the left!

More Texts from Wonderbutt

Our 18 month old bulldog, Wonderbutt, is generally not allowed in what is known as “The Forbidden Section” of the house.  Lately, I have been granting him limited access.  He usually sniffs around for a few minutes, then plops down at my feet as I type on the computer.  Yesterday, he disappeared a few times while I was working.  Fortunately, he had his phone with him…

At Least He Hasn’t Eaten the Phone Yet

Wonderbutt

If our bulldog, Wonderbutt, could send text messages: