Technology technically failed me in getting out Puppi’s visual thoughts for the day —

So I went into his portfolio and found some fuzzy, sleepy abstract pieces for your perusal :

 

Puppicasso's Picasso Study Number One in Dog Minor.

Puppicasso’s Picasso Study Number One in Dog Minor.

 

Puppicasso's Picasso Study Number Two in Dog Minor.

Puppicasso’s Picasso Study Number Two in Dog Minor.

Signed,

Puppicasso

 

This is the last day of the first month of PP’s.  In honor of that fact, Puppicasso has chosen to a non-verbal celebration of this event.

Behold the Mini-Picasso’s Blog-Collage:

 

He dedicates this found collage to all the Pupps that found an owner’s heart.

And to the owners that have lost their Pupps, he sends furry hugs your way…

Signed,

P

You can’t put a Genie back in a bottle or Meat back on a bone.  Once it is out or off, there is no going back to ways things used to…

 

So in honor of SOPA (aka: Sh*t Old People Ask) Blackout day, Puppicasso decided to take his own photo of today’s prediction:

 

SOPA Pupp

 

I just can’t read what it says.

Puppi gets worried about me.  He is worried that I am so super busy right now that I will wear myself out.

"You have too much on your PLATE!"

But I get my energy cues from him:

When I am asleep, I am deep into that sleep, and when I am awake, I take all of the day in.

When I eat, I eat everything off of my plate, but leave some scraps for sweetly-concerned Pupp.

 

He flips his plate to the “B” side:

" or the Plate is too small for the MUCH."

 

I am much obliged to him for his worries, and I promise to get a new, clean, and right-sized plate so that the buffet that lies ahead for me will have enough room and not spill over.

 

 

 

Puppi has some hobbies that I don’t understand.

One is collecting clichés, especially “interview ones” — like pat answers to a post-game interviews:  “We played our hearts out.”  “We didn’t bring our A-game tonight.”

He loves this time of year — Football Playoffs and Awards Season.  He really feels that, “It is an honor just to be nominated.”

He watches each acceptance speech with anticipation of what the actors will say next.  Some would dub it a drinking game, for him it is like collecting museum-worthy baseball cards.  Each statement could give him that bonanza phrase, like an Antique Roadshow blessing.  Plus, this is the only time he doesn’t feel ashamed to wear sequins.

Pupp-erace.

 

So what is Puppicasso’s prediction for this year’s best picture Oscar winner?

"And the winner is..."

“The Mini-Artist” of course.

Puppi wishes to thank all the other nominees in his category.

He couldn’t be here tonight because he is shooting “Guernica, The Musical” in the Sudan, so we acccept this on his behalf.

 

Birthdays have always been anticlimactic for me.

When I was in school, all of my classmates were three years ahead of me, so as they got to drive, I got to see PG-13 movies… They got to drink, and I got to vote – yay for me.  I was afraid to celebrate them simply because, they had been “done” before by all my friends.  So, I stopped really celebrating them for a long, long time — I am talking dog years.

Which brings me to a certain little one that is turning four today, (or is that 28?).

Today is Puppicasso’s Fourth Birthday!

Well, at least that’s what I’ve declared, (he’s a rescue, so he is constantly misplacing his birth certificate, and can’t stand paperwork.)

I had a mini celebration for him:

Happy (not so)

Puppi Birthday

He was not amused.

He doesn’t liked to be fussed over, besides he has gone through seven years in a day.

He turns to his bottle:

I wonder what is in his black skull bottle.

Oh, it must be shame.

He kept drinking for a long time.

Moon Shine Eyes.

But at some point the drinking did the trick.  He was over himself.  He got out of his self-absorbed stupor and got to partying.

He celebrated his new year with a noise maker.

He kept blowing into his noisemaker, and he made me stop worrying about my birthday too (hard to worry with all that racket).

He keeps wanting me to save my date, like saving a future memory.

I don’t dare go against him, after all I think he has some moonshine left for me.

So April 5th, here I come.

I am torn by shuffling.  When the randomness of an iPod gives you an unexpected musical treat that is one thing, but now the fact that everyone has a personal playlist in an instant has me feeling a little sad.

When I was younger if a song came on the radio and I didn’t hear the name from the deejay, I agonized and got on a mission to conquer that song.  I was going to make it mine.  Going to record stores, sifting through covers, singing the chorus to record store employees — my hunt for unknown tracks was like Javert’s pursuit of Jean Valjean in Les Miserables.

This being said, Puppicasso has never downloaded a single song.  He is into concept albums, and he must listen to them in full and in the complete order as intended by the artist.  Being a mini artist himself, he respects the full context of any type of art.  He doesn’t have to take an art appreciation class for that.  But mind you, he is not all classic rock, and NPR — not that kind of music snob.  He just doesn’t care for creating his own playlists, and since he doesn’t “own” any downloads, shuffling is lost on him.  Found music appeals to him most: hearing a song over the speakers of a pet store, or just the ones that pop into his head like they are trying to tell him something.

On our walk today something else popped up to Puppicasso, an abandoned piece of art on the street.

He had to use this found painting to show me the tune that popped into his head this morning.  I think he is trying to tell me something….

"Ah -- Push It."

 

"Push It Real Good!"

The immortal lyrics of Salt and Pepa will carry me through this day.  Thanks, Pupp.