Here we go!

We're blowing this pop stand!!!

Goodbye , Upper West Side. Helloooooo......Greenwich Village!!!!

Movers are arriving in an hour....

Two weeks!

That's how much longer I'll be a resident of the Upper West Side. And it was mornings like today that made me realize how much I'll miss living up here. Bee and I went on an hour long hike through Central Park. Like deep into the woods in Central Park. All the leaves have changed colors and those that fell crunched under my paws. We took a leisurely stroll on the paths that wind underneath bridges and running brooks. It was great. Bummed we didn't take pictures.

But downtown will be awesome. I already have a doggie play date set with Quinn and another Dachshund whose owner is a writer just like Bee. Both are my kind of dogs: outgoing, flirty, busy social lives. I also can't wait to see what the Washington Square Park dog run is like. I wonder if there will be as many Frenchies down there as the Mafia we have on 93rd St.

Okay, I have to start packing. It's hard to gather all of your bones in one spot.

I like trash

I don't know what it is about spoiled vegetables, old chicken and bad fish, but I find all of the above tasty! Every time we walk past a pile of garbage, I have to steal a sniff, and if I'm lucky to find some edible scrap to munch, I munch.

This annoys Bee, since she often has to clean up remnants of said trash after it upsets my stomach

Perhaps she should feed me more? you ask. No. The problem isn't that I'm hungry. The problem, or the allure perhaps, in eating what I discover in the trash is the whole joy of finding hidden treasure. The joy of sniffing out something that someone discarded that was likely not allowed in my regular diet anyway is satisfying. For adults, it's like finding the remnants of a pint of ice cream in the freezer: you didn't know it was there, and though it's bad for you, it tastes good because you discovered it.

I know it's horrible for my lil' stomach. I know that this behavior has been the cause of my recent vomiting. But it's the fun of the hunt—the thrill of the chase—that in enjoy.

I think that if Bee started hiding my kibble, I would get just as much thrill out of finding edible chicken flavored nuggets as I would day old fish in front of Hunan Balcony. A suggestion, mother?

Really

People are so easy. All I have to do is bat my big black eyes and they just melt. Bee stood outside for a half an hour in front of City Diner tonight while I wooed customers as they left, and other Upper West Side residents. One pair of girls rubbed my stomach for 20 minutes. Felt like heaven. Not saying that Bee never does it, but she never sings and cooes and says that I'm the "Key--yoo--test!" thing she's ever seen while she does it.

Well, anymore.

Then a family looking for Carmine's came up to me. While the husband frustratedly walked away, the woman said, "Oh, that dog is Fabulous!"

And even the evil looking woman with that gorgeous Golden Retriever melted at the sight of me playing in the street.

I had them all eating out of the palm of my paw.

Flirting

"At night, she looks like a black panther."--random man on the street on my ferocious presence, after I did my business in the street.

Housekeeping

Bee is going to sign the lease for the new apartment today. I'm so excited. A move means new surroundings, new neighbors (thank goodness, because if we had another spotting of that horrible Next Door Neighbor, or his horrible ex-girlfriend, we would have lost it).

Most of all, it means new furniture!

I'm fo' sho' getting a new doggie bed. Be just bought herself a new bed from Pottery Barn, so I should at least be able to get a new cushion from Target. I'm thinking black this time, so it doesn't show all of my hair.

I also think there should be some new throw pillows in the living room so I'll have a nice soft spot to snuggle in while the girls are at work. I'd appreciate a dog mat for my food and water bowls, too. So I don't drop crumbs everywhere on our new hardwood floors.

This means shopping.

Recession? What recession?