Amber and Terry are MAD. They’re, like, totally obsessed with my PAWS. "Give me a paw," they’ll say, a few times a day. I mean, why? What do they want my paw for? "Get your own paw," I always feel like saying, but once I’ve handed over the paw they always make a big fuss of me, and sometimes I get a sweetie, so I put up with it. MAD, though.

And another thing: what’s with the whole "Sit - stand - lie down" routine that they keep making me go through? I mean, you don’t see me walking up to them and going, "Hi Terry - SIT", do do? So why do they do it to me? Because they’re MAD, that’s why.

This week, Terry’s been bein’ particularly MAD. It’s like, he just got up one morning and he started wreckin the house, ripping up floors and stuff. I don’t know what rattled his cage, but alls I’m sayin is, I hope it wasn’t ME, you know? Because it’s his own fault that I peed on the washing machine YET AGAIN when They went to see "Gym" last week. I’m tryin to set a world record: Dog Who Has Peed on the Washing Machine Most Times. I’ll do it too, and they can’t even stop me. And if they want me to keep handin’ over my paws, like a "good boy", they better not even try…

It’s been one of those days…

One of those days when they stand you on a TABLE and CUT OFF YOUR HAIRS! I couldn’t believe it. Well, actually, I could. I mean, I should have seen it coming. There’s been a number of comments made recently about my appearance - by Terry mainly. He’s very pass-remarkable, Terry. "Scruffy" is one word he’s been using. "Smelly" is another. I mean, I just ignored him and made sure to pee on his side of the bed whenever I could, but I should’ve know he’d be up to something.

Well, yesterday they BATHED me. I thought that was the end of it, but no. This morning Terry comes and gets me, and he’s actin’ all excited, like we’re going to be doin something cool… and then he stands me on a table and he CUTS OFF MY HAIRS.  Amber just sat there the whole time, patting me and offering me goodboys, but I just looked at her, like, "don’t you even touch me, traitor."

So anyway, that’s me, HAIRLESS again. Again! Afterwards Amber gave me a JUMBONE and even Terry kept going on about how good I was and stuff - yeah, right- let’s stand YOU on a table and cut your hairs off with a sharp thing, and we’ll see how good YOU are, Terry. No, really, lets.  Honestly. At least that’s it over, though. I spent the rest of the afternoon sleeping and playing with my toys. And actually, it’s not so bad, this haircut thing. I mean, it’s like, it’s not like anyone could make the Rubinman look like a sissy now, is it?

Now, I don’t want yoos all to get too jealous here, but it’s like, I think I might be goin’ to Las Vegas again. I’m not that bothered about it. I mean, I’ve been before, and let me tell you, it’s not all that great, Las Vegas. Last time I went was, like, totally WEIRD. Amber and Terry were goin’ and so were my Norma and John, so I was like, "OK, cool, goin’ to Las Vegas," so I packed up my ponkies, we all get in the "car", and then what happened was, we drove to this place that was totally like a DOG KENNEL, and I mean, TOTALLY. There’s no Elvis, there’s no slot machines, there’s NUTHIN there. And I was like, "This Vegas totally sucks," and I didn’t even see Amber and Terry all week, so it’s like, their kennel must’ve been on another part of The Strip?

When they eventually turned up they were all, "Blah blah slot machines, blah blah Grand Canyon, blah blah all-you-can-eat-buffet-at-The-Bellagio" and I was like, "EH? Weren’t no SLOT MACHINES on my part of the strip, no siree. And ALL YOU CAN EAT BUFFETS?! I was eatin’ DOG FOOD every night. EVERY NIGHT, people. And it wasn’t all I could eat either - not even close. I mean, this is the Rubinman, I once ate seven cats, y’know? So, it’s like, I know people totally rave about the Las Vegas, and don’t get me wrong, it was OK, but it’s like, it wasn’t GREAT, you know what I mean?

So, anyways, last week Amber and Terry are talkin’ about their freakin’ WEDDING AGAIN. (GOD, when will they shut up about that already? I mean, it’s not like there’s even anything good happening at it. They got no ponkies, no wolves, NOTHIN) and suddenly Terry’s all, "Oh, and we’ll need to book Rubin into Las Vegas again" and I was like: ?????????????!!!!

I think I’m only going for two nights this time while they’re having their stupid "wedding", then I’m staying with my Norma and John but even so, it’s like, long way to go for TWO NIGHTS, no? And all I can say is, they better have booked me a better hotel this time. Like, one with an all you can eat buffet and stuff. Yeah, they better do that or I will NOT be happy, and trust me, they will NOT LIKE IT if the Rubinman’s not happy…

NOT happy…

Oh man, wait till I tell you what I did last night! You will be, like, SO impressed!

So, as y’all know, because they are as mad as fish, Amber and Terry like to confine me to Azkaban of an evening. Well, Sting and Bob Geldof never did turn up to FREE ME, so for months now I have been forumulating a plan - a plan that I cunningly put into action last night.

Last night, you see, was "windy", and I don’t mean in the "OMG, Rubinman, have you farted again?" kind of way. No, it, was, like, a STORM, and as I sat there, deep within the confines of AZKABAN, listening to the wind howl around the house, I knew that my time had come. It was time for the Rubinman to be free, and to take his rightful place in the BIG BED - Amber and Terry’s basket, upstairs.

Well, I started barking. Every time the wind howled, the Rubinman howled with it. I barked and I barked until I was actually starting to annoy even myself. I knew it would be worth it, though. I knew it would get a reaction, and, sure enough, after not very long, Terry showed up. Man, he was MAD. He was, like, totally shouting and saying BAD WORDS at me like a crazymad thing, so what I did was, I shut up until he was on his way back to his basket, and then I started it up again. And again. And again. God, it was the best performance of my life. Terry was getting madder by the moment, but I knew that within twenty minutes I’d be upstairs and I’d be in that there BIG BED right along with Them.

I gave myself thirty minutes to break him. It only took about ten. Before I knew what was happening, I was upstairs. He had brung my bed with him, but, like I was going to sleep on the floor! No way, man. I just waited until he lay down, then I jumped out and ran round the bedroom like a madman, popping my head up every now and then - POP!

Within minutes, I had achieved my goal. I was picked up and allowed to sleep in the BIG BED, and, it’s like, that’s where I’ll be sleeping from now on, dudes. I just need to work out how to get A&T out of the way - let them sleep in Azkaban from now on, see how they like it.

Anyway, enough of this. Before I go, though, I just want to clear something up. Quite a lot of yoos have been askin’ me lately if I really write the blawg myself. Yoos are all, "You’re a dog, dude, you can’t type, I bet Amber writes it for you!" Well, yoos are WRONG. This here blawg is all my own work, and to prove it, here is a picture of me "blogging". As you can see, got me a GREAT BIG keyboard, so’s I can type. SO THERE.

Smell yas, dudes!
Rubin

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!

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.

I got a PINK DONKEY. A PONKY!

Actually, I’m going to just come clean: I got TWO ponkies, and the reason I got two ponkies was that the first one… well, the first one was an IMPOSTOR Ponky. For real.

I blame myself. My Norma had gone to "Ikea" with A&T, and she brought back this dude:

Now, I admit it, I got carried away. There was a rush to judgement. Soon as I seen it: pink, big ears, smilin’, I was just like, "Oh man, a PONKY!" I couldn’t BELIEVE it, and, well, basically I was right not to believe it, because it wasn’t a freakin ponky at all - it was a RABBIT.

Yeah, yeah, I know what y’all are thinkin. Yoos are all, "easy mistake to make, Rubinman - I mean, who HASN’T seen a rabbit and thought it was a donkey?" Well, sure, YOU LOT could easily make the mistake, but for a professional like myself to confuse a rabbit with a PONKY - well, that’s just shameful.

I mean, it’s not the Ponky’s rabbit’s fault. By the time I realised he was Not a Ponky, I’d been throwin that dude all over the place, chasin him, playing with him - me n’ him were like THAT. So I decided to keep him, and everything was cool, and then today… today Terry gets in his "car" and drives away, and the next thing I know, he’s back with THIS:

Now, THAT’s a Ponky for ya. That there is a REAL Ponky. If ever you need to know whether you got yourself a PONKY or a rabbit, you just check out this here picture and that’ll tell you for sure. (And don’t say I’m not good to you. Where else could you get free advice on Ponky-spotting? Only from the Rubinman…) I couldn’t BELIEVE it! I mean, on Friday I had NO PONKIES and now I have TWO! I bet there’s not a single one of you can say that. Obviously Terry had been Ponky-hunting. Who woulda thunk it? I had no idea he even knew where to find a ponky. Hee! I totally rule. Me an m’ponkies.

Don’t even LOOK at my ponkies. They’re MY ponkies. Rubinman does not share!

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.