(Warning:  This may not be appropriate for young pups)

Thanksgiving is coming up this week, so it is an appropriate time to talk about my food habits.

I try to be considerate and not require a separate diet. Whatever “she’ is having is usually o.k. with me. That way she doesn’t have to bother with Alpo and Caesars and the kind of stuff that makes meals more of a hassle.

Normally we have chicken. She likes to buy rotisserie chickens and I especially like the dark meat, like from the drumsticks. What happens then is she freezes the left-over white meat.

Other times we’ll dine on hamburger or roast beef. Sometimes if “she” is having fish or pasta, I can eat the leftover chicken. I am happy enough with it as long as it has been recently defrosted. But PLEASE –I do not eat two-day old chicken from the refrigerator.

Once I finish my entrée, I head to the door of the pantry where my treats are located. This relieves her of the responsibility of having to remember about my treats, which I get after my evening meal.

Then, being a red-blooded American male, I have other appetites.

My human friend, Barbara, uses a very vulgar terminology. She calls it “humping”. Can you imagine?

I have a teddy bear, and believe me, I’m a “one-bear-dog”. There is nothing promiscuous going on and everything takes place in the privacy of my own home. Now, do you see a problem with that?

But Barbara has spread rumors about me all over Solivita.  While all I’m doing is what comes naturally.  Does Barbara think those feline babies of hers are all that innocent?

I hope all of my human friends have a nice Thanksgiving. Since my mommy is heading up to see my human brother, Eric, I am spending it with my second family, Peggy and Carl. I get really good food there, I hope I get some of the dark  meat from their turkey.

P.S. I’m taking my bear with me. It fits in my Patriots canvass bag.

It’s getting harder and harder to hold my head up these days….

You know this time of year is very stressful for me. I have a lot on my shoulders; luckily I don’t have arthritic shoulders like you know who.

But here’s the problem—the Patriots lost again last night. I am honestly not all that concerned about it, neither is mommy. We have other things to think about.

I have neighbors though, and they seem to think that I have something to do with this football thing. They ask “Well are you ready for the big game? We’re counting on you, don’t let us down”.  What am I supposed to say to that? Can’t they see I’m just a little doggie?

I am able to fetch throw and as a matter of fact I can even throw a ball up in the air and catch it. Unlike Tom Brady whom we all know can’t do that, like his wife Giselle says, “He can’t throw the ball and catch it too”.

So I will be happy when football season is over. If they keep losing, maybe I won’t even have to worry about the Super Bowl this year.  That is the worst time of the year for me. As if I didn’t have enough to deal with my mom puts that ridiculous jersey on me.

If only she hadn’t named me after a superhero my life would be easier, but then I guess I just wouldn’t be Brady.

Hello everyone. Sorry I haven’t been blogging for a while. I get so busy here in Solivita that time just gets away from me.

You know, it’s Veterans’ Day and there are  activities here in Solivita in honor of our veterans. The Village Center Drive is all decked out with flags and there is a service today.

I don’t know too many veterans but I know they have done wonderful things for our country and mommy and I are very grateful to all of them.

But today is special for another reason. Guess what! It’s my birthday! I’m eight years old today. Once you calculate things out, if I were completely human, not just smart like some of them (and smarter than a lot of them), I would be 56 years old. Wow! I’m a senior citizen. I could join AARP and get lots of senior discounts. I could even qualify to live in Solivita on my own.

I feel very wise and dignified now and hope I will receive the respect to which I am entitled.

But you know, I remember when I was just a baby and came to live here. I was born in Orlando, way on the other side of the airport, off of Curry Ford Road. I was the last one chosen in the litter, can you imagine that? As cute as I am and the last one chosen, it’s enough to give one an inferiority complex.

When mommy picked me up she brought me home in a crate which she put in the back seat. Then while she was driving the crate turned over, I was terrified. I figured I had been kidnapped by some maniac. When we got here I hid behind the piano and it took forever for me to come out. I didn’t think I would ever adjust to being in this place or the people here. I was tiny, bewildered, and forlorn.

Then all of the sudden mommy’s friends started coming over and bringing me presents as if I were a human baby. I was beginning to feel right at home. Some of the ladies came with open-toed shoes, when they did I bit their toes. I don’t know if they liked that or not but if not, they shouldn’t wear those suggestive shoes.

Now of course, I’m the man of the house and I get my way in most things. Also when we walk down the street people go by and yell “hi Brady”. They never say “hi Carol”. I think she’s jealous. And boy when I was away a little while ago and I came back, lots of people said they missed me, they even stopped their cars to ask where I had been.  It felt good to be home and see my friends.