I had been stalking the water bottle for some time. Watching. Waiting. Every time she put it down, I’d be there. I learned its routines, studied its weaknesses. I knew it would take time, but I had time.  And so I waited. I, the hunter; it, the totally hunted. I knew the time would come when I would pounce on that water bottle and take it back to my lair, where I would proceed to tear it apart in the most brutal way possible.

Today was that day. I saw my opportunity, and I took it:

Then I runned away and hid:

Don’t think Amber was very pleased, somehow. But still, you know what they say: you can please some of the people some of the time, and the rest are idiots, who shoulda kept a closer watch on their water bottles already.

Smell yas,

RUBIN

Yeah, so last night? After we’d got home from my Norma and John’s? I waited till A&T were asleep then I crapped all over my bed. Yes, AGAIN! That’s three beds I’ve ruined this week alone - three beds AND Azkaban. Man, I am ON A ROLL here, people. Also: Amber and Terry don’t speak to me no more. They have, like, NO sense of humour AT ALL. I mean, why so serious all the time?

Anyway, I totally don’t want to talk about it anymore, it’s just, like, SO last night. Oh OK, I will: I will talk about it because actually? Things are quite serious. A&T are REALLY not happy with me. This morning they were all "BAAAAAAD boy" for, like, HOURS. I think I will have to leave to leave home. They don’t understand me, here. Also, I think what they’ll probably do is, they’ll probably get another pet to replace me, and that other pet will probably be that freakin’ Pepeman. GOD.

Just in case you’re wonderin’, by the way, I am STILL not afraid of the Pepe. No way. Quite the opposite, in fact - it was here a few weeks ago, and it was obviously TERRIFIED of me. Lookit!

People, I stand before you, an accused man, accused of a crime I… well, OK, I DID commit, but seriously – I’m angry. And trust me, given the wolf blood that runs in my veins, you do NOT want to see the Rubinman angry, no you do not.

And my accuser? Why, it’s none other than my very own Terry. Who has attacked me here, in my very own blawg. Did you ever hear the like?! His accusations are as follows:

1. That I did wake Them up with my barking at 6am.
Yep, that was me, I dun it. Guilty as charged, your honour. But one thing you forgot to mention, Terry, is WHY I was barking at 6am. BECAUSE I HAD CRAPPED ON THE SPARE ROOM FLOOR AND I WANTED YOU TO GET IT WHILE IT WAS FRESH, that’s why. I mean, do you know how much trouble I went to to pull that one off? You were having one of those “deadlines” you sometimes get, so you were stlll up at 3am. I had to GO OUT at that time and, like, pretend to go about my business, but ACTUALLY hold it in so I could do it later, on the floor. And I did. And I’d do it again. So who looks stupid now, huh Terry? HUH?

2. That I did crap down my own leg.
Yeah, yeah, OK, I did that too. GOD, what is this, the Spanish inquisition or something? And don’t try and tell me you’ve never crapped down your own leg, Terry, we all know you’re lying. Let he who has never crapped down his own leg throw the first stone, that’s what I always say.

3. That I did play “Let’s Hide Under the Bed for No Reason” multiple times
OK, first of all? It’s not called ‘Let’s Hide Under the Bed for No Reason’, it’s called ‘Terry’s A Big Fat Dumbass, and He Knows He Is’, and you would KNOW that if you took the time to PLAY THE GAME WITH ME rather than just staring at the stupid computer box all the time. And I mean, what can I say? I like it when you chase me. I like seeing the look on your face when you realise that, once again, the Rubinman is under the bed and you can’t get him out because he’s TOO QUICK FOR YOU, Terry. Ha! Can’t touch this!

Now, I know you’re probably also going to want to bring up the  issue of What Happened Last Night, so  I’ll just address that one too. Yes, I crapped on two beds. Both sides, top AND bottom. That’s pretty much THREE layers of bedding crapped on. (And by the way, a little bit of credit would be nice, no?). And yeah, yeah, I topped it off with a bit of a pee. SO? They were MY BEDS to pee on – mine. Not yours, so I don’t know why you got all snarky about it. Anyway, it was raining yesterday. The Rubinman doesn’t like the rain, you know that. When it rains I just PRETEND to go out to do my business. Then I come back in and crap in the house. BIG DEAL. Get over it, Terry. Or I’ll do it again tonight. Hee!

Ha! I stick my tounge out at you, Terry. I lick my own nose while I’m at it. Can YOU lick your own nose, Terry? Ha! Didn’t think so…

Rubin

This update comes to you live from the “Sin-bin”, where I’ve been remanded in custody by Terry after a day of total and utter BADNESS.

First there was the matter of Amber’s flowers. Well. Somehow during the night Amber had growed two flowers in the garden. Well, I don’t know how she did it, but they weren’t there the night before, and in the morning Amber was looking at them all smiley, so she must have growed them. Which was silly of her. I mean, they were right there in front of me – tall and obscenely orange. You know that thing people say about how dogs are colourblind? Crap. It’s just not true. If it was true, then those flowers wouldn’t have annoyed me this morning: I just wouldn’t have seen them, and if I hadn’t seen then, I wouldn’t have ran over to them and bit both their heads off before the orange-headed freaks knew what had hit them. Well Amber went crazy. Crazy like a LOON. She went so crazy that she totally distracted me from what I was supposed to be doing in the garden in the first place in the morning – the result being that I crapped on her bedroom floor while she was drying her hair. Well, you would have done the same.

I quietened down a bit during the day. Shredded up a newspaper while she was working right enough, but I reserved the real BADNESS for when Terry came home. Then I just went for it. I started making out like I needed a pee, so they had to keep getting me up and taking me out: then when I got outside I’d eat stones, sticks – even managed to pull a small BRANCH of one of their trees and eat it – anything except answer the call of nature. Finally they’d get bored of standing at the door watching me, so they’d go back inside – at which point I’d turn up and make like I needed a pee again. So frustrating for them! Finally they put me outside and told me to just get on with it. At which point the fat kid from next door turned up.

He turned up with a GUN. I kid you not. The fat kid was carrying a freakin’ gun. Well, what’s a wolf to do? Bearing in mind that it’s up to me to guard the house, I started barking my ass off. Then Terry appeared, wanted me to come inside. Like, no way! So I started running. I ran flat out round the garden. Round and round and round the garden, Terry chasing me the whole way. He wouldn’t give up, but neither would the Rubinman. I ran like that for like an HOUR, it was truly an awesome sight. Amber leaned out of the spare room window and laughed at Terry the whole time. He didn’t catch me: I’m fast like a JAGUAR. Finally I stopped to get me a drink of water, and Terry just, like, picked me up and put me in the Sin Bin. Hee, though! I rock!

I think if I were to name the worst thing I ever did it would havta be The Sheet Incident. Amber had washed a sheet. It was white and HUGE. She spent HOURS ironing it, and she was complaining the whole time because she hates ironing. Well, I waited until she was just about finished. Then in I strolled, casual as anything. Amber started to notice a really strong smell of pee… She looked down… There, right in the middle of her beautiful, crisp, snowy-white sheet, was a huge yellow pee-stain. The Rubinman had struck again.

Well, I thought she was going to kill me. She was really MAD - and even more so when she chased me down the stairs and almost stood in the pile of crap I’d left at the bottom. (Note the word "almost" here. She didn’t ACTUALLY stand in it. So why all the fuss?) After that I decided to quieten things down a bit, pretend to be "good". I did the odd pee here and there - mainly there, on the corner of the leather suite, to be honest, and I was sent to the SIN BIN for that. But I tried to be good. Until last week.

Last week I decided to reprise my "peeing on the ironing" act. She had been ironing Terry’s shirts. Two of them. She had hung them up on a chair for Terry to put them away. Ha! It wasn’t until he was getting ready for bed that he found the tell-tale yellow marks. I had managed to get both of the shirts. And - get this - by then it was TOO LATE for them to give me a row! Hee!

Also last week I pulled off my greatest trick yet. Imagine, if you will, that you’re Amber. You’ve just come downstairs first thing in the morning to find that the Rubinman has, as always, left a big pile o’ crap beside the back door, on the newspapers which are provided for that very purpose. You heave a big sigh and begin to clean up. It’s as you straighten up from disinfecting the floor that something catches your eye. Something brown and smelly. Almost like a crap. But no, it’s at eye level. It can’t be? Surely to god it CAN’T be?! It is. There, sitting on the kitchen counter, right next to your bonsai tree and your fairy liquid, is a crap. How did it get there? How, for the love of god, did it get there?! In the corner sits the Rubinman, quietly watching….

I bet you’re wondering how I did it, aren’t you? You’re thinking, ’small dog, high counter’ - how DID he do it? Well I’m not going to tell you. Does the Magic Circle give its secrets away? Well then.

Other than that, here’s a list of other BAD stuff I’ve done:
1. barking really early in the morning
2. barking during the middle of the night
3. barking really early in the morning ON THE WEEKEND
4. a bit more barking
5. some more barking
6. barking again
7. and a quick spot of barking
8. barking
9. I’m still barking
10. STILL barking
11. I’ve stopped for a quick pee
12. I’m barking again
13. And again
14. I WON’T STOP barking
15. Bite me.

Hee!
Anyway, better go and have a nap. I’m up early tomorrow…

P.S .
Also: got me a new bed. Ya like?

Yo, Rubinman in da house. Here’s the thing, though: I’m totally NOT in the house. I haven’t been in the house for TWO WEEKS in fact, and quite frankly, I am NOT amused…

Now, I’m not talkin about my OWN house, here. Like, I’ve been THERE – aint no one could kick the Rubinman out in the cold. No, it’s my Norma and John’s house. I haven’t been welcome there for weeks, and you know why? Because my “Uncle Jerry” has been there, that’s why.

Now, I know what yoos all are thinkin’. Yoos are all, “ah, that’s nice, he must’ve came to see the Rubinman.” Yeah, right. Dude is TERRIFIED of me. Like, totally terrified. Every time he’s here he’s all, “where’s that wolf? Is that wolf here? You keep that wolf away from me, OK?” TERRIFIED. He tries to make out that he’s just “allergic”, but I think we all know the truth – I scare the bejesus outta him, and you got to admit, it’s understandable. I mean, you only haveta look at me ->

Anyway, so that’s partly why I haven’t been “blogging” for a while. The “Uncle Jerry” came and there were whole days where weren’t nothin’ to do but pee all over the kitchen and on my bed. Last week I peed on my bed seven times. Seven. Hee! I also perfected a little somethin’ I’ve been working on for a while. I call it “projectile peeing”, and I’m like, the world champion at it. It’s like, I’ll probably be peeing for Scotland in the next Olympics or something.

I first found out I could do it one day when I was out walking Amber and we went over this bridge. Bridge has got metal railings along it, road down below. Well, I did what anyone else would do – lifted my leg and let fly. Hee! Imagine it: car on the road, full of happy campers off on their hodilays… as they approach the bridge they see the Rubinman up above, leg raised… Now we don’t go over that bridge no more. Anyways, I can also projectile pee out of AZKABAN, my dog crate. I can totally lift my leg and pee and it lands nowhere near my bed. You should see Amber’s face! (Note: sometimes I totally pee on my bed anyway, just because I can).

Also: that thing happened again. That thing where I go to bed and everything’s normal and then I wake up and there’s mental white stuff everywhere. Here’s a little game for you - I call it “Where’s Rubin?”

D’yer know what it is yet?

It’s meeeeee!

Here’s another (scarier) one for yoos:

Yeah, don’t even LOOK at my ball. Especially not you, Unc Jer. I’ll bite your face off!
This one’s for you Unc Jer:

Smell ya later, dudes!

P.S. Norma? Don’t say anything about me bein’ out without my red coat on. It’s like, wolves families don’t even make them wear coats. For real.

* answer: My Uncle Jerry

Just to clarify here : I didn’t know they were Amber’s favourite shoes when I ate them. I didn’t! I thought the last pair I ate were her favourite shoes? Who has two favourite pairs of shoes (Answer: Amber, obviously. The freak.) I’m not saying I wouldn’t have eaten them if I’d known, but I’d maybe have gone a bit easier on them. Maybe.

Still, though - you’d think I’d freaking killed somebody! Amber takes one look at the shoes and runs into the bedroom in tears, flings herself onto the bed and throws a hissyfit. Terry gets all worried and goes in to comfort her, says he’ll fix the shoes etc. (Ha! Like to see you try Big T!) Well, what’s a pup to do? I thought it was the right thing. I was just trying to get their attention off the shoes and back onto moi, you know? So I casually wandered into the room they were in and did a crap on the floor. Ha! That shut them up! Well, it shut them up for about 5 seconds, anyway. Then they freaked out again.

Terry picked me up and took me out of the room, giving me the usual,"baaaaad Rubin! Baaaaad Rubin! No! NO!" as we went. Nearly broke my doggy ears. He put me in my basket in the spare room, where I adopted a suitably puzzled expression. Meanwhile, Amber’s going mental in the bedroom - all over a pair of shoes. I mean, is it just me or is that completely weird? Terry cleaned up the crap (it was a really smelly one too, I was quite proudof it) and they calmed down a bit. Amber didn’t speak to me all night though. Oooooh!

It wasn’t long after that episode that they gave me a bath. Now, I’m not saying the two incidents were connected, but they obviously were. I mean,I’d done nothing wrong. There I was, minding my own business, out in the garden digging me some holes. Got a few minor holes on the go at the moment;nothing like The Hole, of course, but not too shabby at all, though I say it myself.

So I’m digging, running around like a maniac, digging again.Once I’d finished for the night I had a good roll in the long grass, got myself all covered in mud- it was everywhere but I figured I’d have a good shake once I was in the house, leaveit on the floor for Amber. She must quite like cleaning the floor cos she’s always doing it, so I figured I was doing her a favour. Anyway, I come in, have a good shake and go and bark for them to give me attention.

Well, I got it. I got a BATH. What a nightmare, although afterwards, I have to say, I did look nice - all fluffyand white and they kept cuddling me and calling me a good boy. I got some of that doggy chocolate as well, so it wasn’t too bad. Ah well, off to shred some newspapers for them. A dog’s work is never done.

So, dug me a hole the other day.

It was a great hole, you should’ve seen it - I may be just a little dog, but I dig a mean hole, I really do. So there I am, hole dug, chewstick already burried (one I prepared earlier hehe) and I go and start collecting my stuff to bury in The Hole. I get them all lined up nice and neat at the side of it: Teddy, Buddy, Freezebone, and my ball. I can see Amber and Terry talking in the kitchen, but they haven’t seen me ha! So I’m just about to start getting my stuff buried, and I see a bit of The Hole that’s not quite right.

I had to go all the way in to get it sorted (I told you it was a big hole) and while I’m down there I start to hear this noise…

So, I haul ass out of the hole, and there they are. Amber and Terry, and they’re going freaking crazy! Terry especially; I mean, you’d have thought it was his Freezebone I’d buried. Like, take a chill pill, pal! They were both all annoyed, waving their arms around and making noises like those Sims Amber’s always playing with. They wouldn’t let me back near the hole. I took off round the garden, doing my "running really fast like a bullet on speed" thing to confuse them, but when I stopped, Terry had filled in the hole! I think Buddy and Teddy got washed after that as well, but I’m not sure. I’ve got them all dirtied back up again now, but I’m still quite gutted about the hole. Now they’re watching me so much it’s like being in the Big Brother house. Haven’t had a chance to dig me another hole yet. But I will. Watch this space.

Rubin.