A Hard Chargin' Reporter
People may think that documenting my life as a pug puppy is easy, but it's not. I take my work seriously because I dream of one day being the foremost pug journalist or author in the world. My dream, if I become a journalist, is to work for the New York Times. If I write fiction my dream is to work for FOX News.

Here I am, taking notes and making entries. I get angry when I'm interrupted during my work.

I am supposed to have adult supervision when making blog entries but sometimes my parents, primarily Daddy, sneak off when I don't notice and leave me stranded on the computer desk.

Anytime you're working hard you need a cup of joe and a donut. I already ate the donut, but I'm reaching for a drink of my coffee here.

Daddy's closet smells like Daddy, so I like it. It has all the benefits of him without the drawback of getting annoyed.

I am cute. "No Daddy, I wasn't chewing on your dress shoes. They must be wet because of some water leak in here."

Mommy and Daddy got awesome tickets to see the Mariners play at Safeco. What have I learned from this?- Retired Microsoft attorneys have awesome seats to the Mariners. Mommy and Daddy snuck me in inside of Mommy's purse. (Parent's note- no we didn't. Winston is making this part up, but we did have great seats to the game.)

This is Frank Thomas getting a hit. Daddy used him to teach me the phrase "washed up." I still don't exactly grasp the concept, but I'm trying to use it in sentences. (Parent's note: We did, actually Daddy did, describe Frank Thomas as "washed up"-Mommy had no idea who he was. Then Daddy read an article that said the old man actually had a good year. What the...?!?! This is why there should be a Constitutional Amendment against the designated hitter.)

Chicken tenders, garlic fries, regular fries, a footlong polish sausage, nachos, and some Thai food. Hmmm, good. By the way, the Mariners got thrashed.

/s/ Winston, Grand Duke of Pugsworth