Sunday, February 20, 2011

A Blog about Dinky, Dogsitting, and Awards and Not Food

I could totally go for some possum right now.

This blog has nothing to do with food, unless you think dog is tasty. But I figure Dinky is old enough now that he's probably tough and greasy, like possum. (I've heard that about possum. I don't know first-hand.)

Dinky's real name is Love Boat. Let's see how short I can make this long story. Our first Berner was Tow Truck.

Yes. I was much younger and thinner. Shut up.

The breeder thought his name was Tugboat and never did quite get his real name. So we decided when we moved from Atlanta to the coast and lost him to cancer, our next boy would get the Tugboat moniker.

Me with Tugboat. Still younger, still thinner. Still shut up. Wasn't he a cute puppy??

After a short while, we decided Tugboat needed a brother, so we got Steamboat.

Oh, they did dig each other so.


Sadly, we lost Tugboat at age 3 to cancer. So Steamboat was without his buddy. We had the bright idea to get him a little brother, so we brought Love Boat into our home. And things have never been the same.


Oh. My. God. You CAN'T be serious. What IS that vile thing?
Love Boat was so much smaller than Steamboat, that Dinky quickly became his nickname.


See? Dinky.

And despite his increasing height (and girth), it stuck. He still thinks he's that small.


Yes, I see the grey hair. Thanks.


Not that I mind all that much.

So Dinky it is, and we rarely call him Love Boat anymore, even though he is quite the ladies man.


It's his motto. "Believe it, baby!"

Dinky is definitely a rock star, and I kid you not, has had fans send him things, like cards, candy and bling.



So Dinky is no stranger to fame. Hell, he's probably got stalkers I don't know about. He's campaigning for his own cell phone and unlimited texting, but I have to draw the line somewhere.

Now the awards part: (I promise there's a connection here.)

Every year there are all these "Best of" awards all over the place, and Wilmington is no exception. Encore Magazine does a Best of for a bunch of categories, from Best Car Wash to (this year) Best Local Blog. At least I think that was the category. Anyway, yours truly got a mention for this piece of internet litter. A few people congratulated me before I had any clue what was going on. Truly, I have no idea who voted for me besides my pal Allison, because my own husband doesn't even read this unless I ask him to proof it for me. But whoever you are, thank you. Someone said I tied for third (?) with another blog, The Appalachian Ridgeback.

As these things go, it turns out that I know that blogger. Small world! Well, actually, small city, so it's not all that unusual. Still, it was cool to be tied with Visha and her (much-better-than-my) blog. Check it out. It really is excellent.

What does this have to do with Dinky the Scourge? Visha is his latest girlfriend! Well, OK, petsitter. But don't tell him, please. We met Visha when his usual parade of women weren't available to stay here with him over New Year's Eve. Evidently, they had hotter dates than Dinky, although I really don't know how that's possible. The boy can party like nobody's business.


Drunk already, and it's still light out. What a lush.
 Visha graciously agreed to stay with him over New Year's so we could go out of town to see our friends Ben and Amy, who made me stay up until midnight, so we probably won't be doing that again. (Kidding, guys!) Dinky wasn't all that thrilled to see us come home, because he liked Visha better, and said she was hotter than either of us. True enough.

I was talking to Dinky about the Encore awards and how Visha's blog and my blog both got mentions and (I think) tied for third or something. And he said, "Well, Mom, what do those two blogs have in common? ME, of course! I have made appearances in both! Coincidence? I think not."

"Yeah, that's right, bitches. You're rubbin' elbows with a playah. Oh, hey! Scratch my butt, wouldja?"

So to all of Dinky's fans who voted for this blog (and Visha's!) because Dinky has graced our pages with his presence, thank you. He'll never forget the little people who made him who he is today.

"You're welcome. Now bring me food."

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