Its a Doggy-Dogg World, Man

"Mom," I pleaded, "the phrase is dog-eat-dog world, not doggy dogg."
Mom, somewhat defeated, replied "well I don't know all these rappers Thania."
 
Speaking of dogs, isn't Raja (the family canine) the cutest? I'm sorry, I know you think your dog is cute, but you are wrong. Raja--which appropriately means "king" in Hindi--is pure royalty. He's a snuggly, 11-year old mix between a Bischond and a Yorkshire Terrier. He's non-shedding, laid back, and travel-sized for our convenience. What a mutt. Raja rocks.
 
My mother absolutely adores him. Dad loves Raja, too, he just won't admit it. I see them doing their male bonding thing when no one's watching. It's a damn good thing, too. All the women in our house have cuddled that dog into submission. Now when he sees a human walking toward him, he usually turns over belly-up (assuming he's not already laying down), flops his paws over, and expects a good tummy rub. Excellent gaurd dog.
 
He just had his 11th birthday yesterday. Mom almost made me order him a beef burrito from the Beltline Bar for his special birthday dinner. I don't know what we'll do when the little bugger's gone. He's a member of the family. He sleeps under the sheets, often with his wee head on the pillow. He gladly urinates on the  southwest corner of my bed daily, and he eats chicken curry like its going out of style. In an uncharacteristically affectionate moment the other day, I gave my Mom a big hug, and she started patting my head saying "good boy, Raja, g-boy!" She didn't realize it until I pointed out that I was her human daughter, Tanya.
 
Dogs: are they man's best friend, or is it just a big hoax coordinated by the leadership of some bizarro dog planet? If dogs could talk, might they really say "hey...you don't see us going around pickin' up THEIR poop."