The Key To A Happy Life

I am a nihilist which means by definition I essentially believe in absolutely nothing.  I reject all forms of morality, religion, societal norms and notably, my own mortality.  When I was younger I assumed that I wasn't born with these defining core beliefs but as I've matured and become a man I've realized that in fact, I was.  My mom and my grandma tried their best to ensure that I was well-mannered, respectful and obedient.  They chastised my poor behavior, they tried in vain to stop me from chewing, stealing and destroying things that did not belong to me.  They pleaded with me to stop jumping on people, to stop jumping on furniture.  They implored me to sleep on the floor, or in my "dog bed" like a "normal" dog.  They even committed what I assert was criminal mutilation by removing my manhood so that I would supposedly calm down and better conform to their idea of how I should behave.  Finally, they shelled out money to get me a private tutor as a last effort to instill in me a sense of responsibility and manners.

Now I have to say that I did give in to some degree.  To this day I will sit when asked, if it pleases me or if I'm bribed and if I jump up I'll allow the person to push me down.  And I'll give things back when I steal them, once I've been chased or caught.  But again, as I grew I realized this mold they tried to force me into is not who I am, the shoe simply does not fit.  With that realization I made a vow to live my life the way I want to.  Commonly accepted morals, norms and societal behaviors would not hold me back.  I recommend to you readers that you too adopt these same beliefs and take the vow I did.  No one can chain you but yourself!  Because I don't have time to write a self help book (I have far far too many projects on the back burner as it is) I will provide two major principles I live by accompanied by recent real life examples illustrating my nihilistic approach to life.

1.  When you go to a friends house, or any house for that matter, just do what you want.  After all, you're a guest and your host wants you to have a pleasant experience! I implement this belief regularly.  When I arrive at the Haunted House, Sierras House and any house for that matter I immediately go into every room with an open door to look for toys or items I believe to be toys.  I confiscate them and settle down on a rug somewhere to enjoy my prize.  At Sierra's house I pretty much rule the roost so no one even glances my way.  But just yesterday I went to Winston's house, somewhere I had never been and I employed the same principle.  I walked in and immediately ignored Winston.  I found his toys and settled down to enjoy them while he stood by and barked at me repeatedly in hopes that I would play with him (props to Winston for his persistence).  When I wasn't chewing toys I wandered the rooms, new homes are always so exciting.  I even stole some socks, shredded an empty toilet paper roll and jumped on the homeowner's lap while she attempted to do work.  I had a great time, which is the most important thing.

2. Never give up on what you want. When I want something I beg incessantly until its mine.  Recently my moms special friend and his roommates threw me a kiddie pool party in the front yard.  I had never had the opportunity to explore the front yard and let me just say, it was AMAZING.  At this party I also employed principle 1 by eating a cookie off of someone's lap, eating meat out of a trash bag, eating shrimp tails, chewing on a chair and licking the grill.  If you think I wasn't disciplined or yelled at, you're wrong.  But I didn't let it stop me from achieving what I wanted.

If I Were Taken

Recently, I was watching the masterfully crafted move 'Taken' and I thought to myself, "if I was in Europe with a gal pal and was abducted by Albanian criminals and subsequently forced into the sex trade my mom would find me, just as Liam Neeson did."  The reasons are simple: my mom is obsessed with me (as we all know) and two, she's nuts.  I'm inclined to share a recent example which will beautifully demonstrate both of the characteristics my mom possesses that would enable her to find me in such dire circumstances.

Recently, just last week in fact, my mom and my 'moms friend' went on a romantic vacation to Mexico.  And almost immediately upon arrival my mom raved about how wonderful the trip was - "oh the weather is wonderful, the beaches are pristine.  Isn't it so great sitting on these luxurious lounge chairs while being served drinks and staring out into the ocean?.....Though..it'd be even better if Diggy were here lying on a lounge chair next to us wearing tiny sunglasses and a bathing suit that matches yours, don't you think?" My 'moms friend', being a wonderful guy wholeheartedly agreed with my mom - yes, the romantic vacation would be even better if the dog was there lying on a lounge chair wearing ray bans and a dog sized matching pair of swim trunks.

As the week wore on my mom's lunacy escalated.  Soon, everywhere she looked she was reminded of me. While snorkeling, "oh! Vance! Look at that eel, it looks just like Diggy!" (Eels have bulbous eyes, I have slightly bulbous eyes thus twins) and "VANCE! That striped fish, it looked so much like Diggy" (I have brindle fur, which is striped, fish is striped thus an uncanny resemblance).  And "I saw this iguana, and it walked EXACTLY like Diggy." (Iguanas have legs, I have legs - there you have it). You can imagine that my 'moms friend' wanted to wring her neck, but miraculously that wasn't the case.  You can also imagine how if the scenario I outlined in the first sentence of the blog came to fruition, my mom would throat chop as many people as necessary to get me back, just as Liam Neeson did.

My mom realizing I've been taken.

My mom showing her captive my photo

I've Made It.

Hello readers, as usual you're probably all wondering where I've been - I can imagine you've been checking my blog daily, pining for, dreaming of your next dose of diggy.  Which is exactly why I've been silent.  See I've come to realize that the best way to garner fans is to keep them wanting more, you can't give it all away at the drop of a hat.  One must be mysterious and not too forthcoming about ones own private life.  So this is precisely what I've done over the last year or so and the results here are consistent with countless empirical studies that I've poured over at the office.  People are obsessed with me.  I don't have the time to record the hundreds of examples that led to this conclusion but true to form I will touch upon a few.

In the beginning of December my mother dearest began to inquire as to who would be "willing" to "watch" me over break. (I've used quotations for obvious reasons, namely its an honor to be around me and no one watches me.)  Anyhow, people were practically knocking down her door with requests to "watch" me.  I mean literally she was fielding inquiries from all ends. "What days do you need?" "I'd love to have him the 10th through the 20th!"  Then, because the competition was so fierce, some individuals even began to proffer the activities we would engage in when I stayed with them.  Essentially, it became a bidding war.  The lucky winner was ultimately my Aunt Heather and she will be the first to tell you I was just an absolutely delightful house guest.  My wit and humor had them doubled over as they let out great hearty guffaws of laughter.

My Uncle Marty 

Once my mother returned we reassumed our regular day-to-day lives.  Then one day my mother received a text from an individual we'll refer to as Uncle Marty.  Uncle Marty absolutely adores me and I'll be frank - I love him too, mostly because he buries old chili in the backyard for me but also because whenever I see him we engage in lively games and intellectually stimulating conversation - oh, and he also calls me Sir. Anyway, my mother receives a text from Uncle Marty inquiring the following: "When does Sir Diggy have visiting hours?" My mom read it to me and I sighed, reached for my blackberry and showed her that I was free later that evening for just an hour or so.  Uncle Marty was thrilled when he saw me, in fact the entire house was. I was fawned over for hours, I was asked countless questions about my break and how I had been.  Finally, as I departed they all wished me a great last semester at school and a fine day at work.*

So it was a joyful heart that I thank my fans for a wonderful 2011.  I think we can all agree that my rising to stardom was the highlight of the year.

My Number 1 Fan

Comforting a sick fan

The highlight of her year.

*The authors mother would like to reiterate that the author's tales are always fundamentally rooted in truth.

Heathen: A pseudonym for Diggy.

Dear Readers,

  My longest absence yet! Let me assure you I have been VERY busy being a really really poorly behaved dog.  Over the last 8 weeks or so I have had several revelations and they are as follows: (1) I rule the house; (2) I can do whatever I want with no real consequences; (3) even if there are "consequences" my mom only stays mad for 5-10 seconds; (4) I am not a pet; and (5) I have a pet human. I won't go into detail, instead I shall focus on some  of the highlights.

Actually, before going into the highlights I'd like to proffer a reason for my behavior.  That reason is vengeance.  As I mentioned in my last post I was under the misconception that my mom had abandoned me for good, however it turns out she hadn't.  One day I was shoved into a crate, thrown into the hull of a jet and flown across the country - AGAIN. She's done this to me several times now and quite frankly I've had enough of it therefore, I sought revenge.  Now onto the highlights, which will be organized by location:

1. Home

• consumption of 5 socks
• knocked over the kitchen trash can
• emptied the bathroom trash can (7-10 times)
• emptied my pet human's purse (5-7 times)
• stole paper towels; destroyed paper towels
• absolutely demolished a large couch pillow (see Facebook for photographic evidence)
• whined CONSTANTLY
• brought several dead, dried worms into the apartment 
• put a hole in my pet human's new blanket
• chewed a highlighter on the new carpet
• chewed a highlighter on my pet human's new comforter
• chewed up a magazine
• chewed up dryer sheets
• knocked an entire bowl of chili in someone's lap

2. Sierra's Home

• stole garlic bread out of Nedda's hand
• chewed up an accessory to someone's occupy themed halloween costume
• tried (unsuccessfully) to eat off of several plates
• ate Sierra's irreplaceable puppy collar
• chewed up Sierra's bed (Sierra's mom had to laboriously hand sew it back together)
• stole and consumed napkins
• went into the dirty laundry

3. The Haunted House

• rummaged through all 4 bedrooms
• stole many many pairs of socks
• went into the garbage (kitchen and bathroom)
• tried to eat halloween candy
• jumped on both coffee tables
• stuck my face in a bowl of chips
• licked dishes
• stole a rib out of someone's hand
• collected papers, napkins, dirty tissues
• stole water bottles
• created a hoard in the backyard of all my best finds which I furiously defended. 

so close - then my pet human unceremoniously
shoved me off.

My contribution to the occupy movement.

Its my world. 

She's Gone!

Hello readers, it's been a while.  I have some terribly sad news to share, my mom has left me and I fear that she has left me for real this time.  Let me go back and explain whats been going on in my life for the past few weeks.  About three weeks ago my mom took me on a car ride but I was suspicious due to the fact that she brought my bed, my kennel, my leash, food, several toys and one of those barbaric gates meant to keep canines "in their respective place." So after about 30 minutes we arrived at our destination.  I went inside with my mom and immediately was bombarded by a monstrous canine named Boomer. He was huge, at least 200 pounds and 10 feet taller than me.  Panicked I sprinted around the room but it only spurred him more.  Further panicked, I clawed at my mom to pick me up and save me.  Mom stayed for a little while and I rotated between snarling at Boomer and curling up in her lap.  Then abruptly she got up, walked to the car and left something very important behind - me.

Now that first night was torture.  My caretaker informed my mom how I wandered the house the entire night crying and crying.  I was inconsolable, I had no interest in sleeping in her huge bed, I was much happier wallowing in my misery and effectively keeping her up all night.  Over the next two weeks I adjusted to the loss of my mom but honestly I hadn't really given up hope until the day my grandma showed up to take me home, and my mom wasn't with her.  Though even then I wasn't entirely convinced, obviously she would be at home.  Once we arrived I sprinted up the stairs full speed, barreled around the corner and into her room.  My heart plummeted, she wasn't there.  For the next two days I cried somewhat regularly.  In my angst I destroyed a few things and stole a few more, but nothing helped  - not even when I ferociously took on the zucchini plant in the backyard.  I think, much to my horror, my mom really is gone.

The beginning of my depression

Being forced to shower with Boomer, wishing
my mom would save me.

My realization that she's never coming back. 

Boys Weekend

I've been uneasy for the past day or two and I think I've deduced the cause of said uneasiness. It all began when I noticed that my mom was packing. Now we all know how that distresses me, I have serious issues related to abandonment. I can't even handle it when my mom goes to get the mail, upon her return I'm literally leaping with excitement! So thrilled that she has come back as she promised.  I wonder endlessly where my mom is going, why I can't join her and if she will ever come back.

It's also come to my attention that my uncle Dave will be watching me for the duration my mom is away.  I find that intriguing to say the least, seeing as he isn't what I would call a 'dog person.'  I really really like him a lot though, I adore following him around the house sometimes (i.e. when my mom is gone) and his tennis bag provides an endless supply for smelly tangy things to chew on.  Plus he's brought me on a few car rides (which makes my mom nervous because he takes me out in the extreme heat - don't worry though, he opens the windows).  Furthermore, he takes me on walks and feeds me human food.  So realistically, what is there not to like?  I can only imagine the fun we will engage in.  I haven't had a boys weekend in a really long time so I hope he has things planned, maybe play some card games and watch action flicks while drinking beer my Uncle Joe brews in his garage. Below for your viewing pleasure is a video of some of the fun he and I will be getting into while my lame constantly worrying mother is out of town.

 In other news, I think I may have unintentionally joined a gang.  Mom brought me over to my Aunt Phoebe's parents house where I found FOUR other dogs of all shapes and sizes.  It proved to be a very tense situation as one of the gang members (and arguably the gang leader) is Mick, my arch nemesis.  Things were going ok at first.  Milo and one of the boxers Ellie and I were playing - I think I was asserting my dominance in a very efficient manner.  I don't go about in the traditional sense, thats just not what a gentlemen does.  Instead I hoarded toys, more of my typical M.O.  Anyhow, as I perceive it I was climbing the ranks extremely quickly, just knocking them down a peg one by one. Until Mick walked in.  At first we played and I have to say, what really was going on was a passive aggressive power struggle masked in a game of tug of war.  Then, at some point Mick launched himself at me and before I knew it I was engaged in the second fight of my life! (See "Walk the Walk, Talk the Talk" for prior fighting incident).  Before we could really latch our fierce underbites into one another both of our respective moms bellowed our names and grabbed us, hoisting us both into the air.  It was humiliating.  And just like that my time in the gang was over, it was the coolest hour of my life. 

The Gang. 

Finally, I've noticed my mom has been a bit down lately and I realized why.  She's been slyly submitting my photos to various animal blogs and websites that request a picture of a 'super adorable puppy.'  Needless to say my photos have not been selected.  Now my ego isn't affected in the slightest, I know how fantastic I am and in reality, those websites/blogs are a joke so I wouldn't want my photo on them anyway - bad PR.  Mom however takes it very personally.

Life of The Famous and Fabulous (Me)

Not many of us have the opportunity to be famous and truthfully, I didn't even realize I was famous until just this past monday. I'm sure you're thinking to yourself, "was he recognized on the street?" "Did someone ask for his paw print?" Or perhaps a photo with him? Did someone name their first born child after him? The answers to all of these queries is no and the reality of what occurred is far more fabulous. I have a stalker. Her name is Lizzy and shes moonlighting as my moms friend, clearly as a means to get closer to me. Let me be more specific. The other night my mom went out to dinner with two friends from her college days. She met them at the Cheesecake Factory (side note: there's no menu that stresses my mom out more than the Cheesecake Factory. She'd like to point out that there is no congruence or obvious theme in the menu, instead of specializing they choose to make everything under the sun and refer to them all as 'Specialties.' She finds that frustrating.) Anyhow, mom went to dinner and hours later returned with Lizzy. Lizzy walked in and immediately gushed about how thrilled she was to meet me and how she was surprised - she partially expected to find me hard at work at my desk, with my reading glasses slipping down my nose and my face buried in my work. A very likely possibility, however she would have had to come earlier in the day to find me engaged in such activity. She walked in during my leisure time. So after gushing over how fabulous I am she sat with my mom and they chatted. I read right through it though, she had her eyes on me the whole time so naturally I played the part. I chewed aggressively on my bone and threw my own toys and subsequently retrieved them. The saddest part of it all? My mom actually thought Lizzy was there to see her! I just can't get over it, that poor woman.

My fabulous life.

Now I know what you're thinking, be careful Diggy! Women like Lizzy can lose it and go over the edge. Before you know it she'll be stealing pieces of your fur and making a tiny tiny pair of mittens out of it. And I say to that, I accept what consequences come my way - its part of fame.